


The Source of Darkness (or vice versa)

by starcut_sand



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Talon!Dick, Team as Family, but like the court of owls is different, meaning I know nothing about it, please be nice I'm trying, so I looked at the wiki and stole the stuff I liked, talon au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-08-02 14:22:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16306880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starcut_sand/pseuds/starcut_sand
Summary: Talon may not like his job, but it's not like he has a choice. And now he has a new assignment- one way or another, Batman must die. Maybe he wasn't quite prepared for the kid heroes, or the weird mind games, or everyone's fixation on him being a child. It didn't matter, because there was no way he was failing this assignment. He was no traitor....Now, if he could just follow through with that.





	1. Beware the Court of Owls

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote five chapters of this, like, half a year ago all in one go, with no intention of posting it. But I've been rereading it, and it's actually pretty good, so I'm deciding to post it? I think the changes I made to the Court of Owls stand on their own without me having to explain them, but if they don't, let me know. This is a kind of experimental story for me, it's not like stuff I usually write, so... be nice? The title's from a quote I got from goodreads:  
> "Is the light truly the source of darkness or vice versa? Is the soul a source of hope or despair? Who are these so-called heroes and where do they come from? Are their origins in obscurity or in plain sight?"  
> -Fyodor Dostoevsky

Curtains draped the room in shadows. The only light was a fake fireplace that glowed quietly. A desk sat at the back of the room, and in front of that, two people dressed in nice clothes, as if they were going to some important business meeting- which, he thought, they sort of were. The scene that might have been warm was marred by the blank white masks they wore on their faces, somewhat reminiscent of owls.

It was cold here.

He thought that the Court probably did that on purpose. It always brought up memories for him, and suddenly he didn’t have it in him to argue with anything they did, just so that he could get away from the cold that followed them everywhere. It was an effective shield against having one of their own turn against them. A good tactic.

It was easier if he thought about it that way. Detached, analyzing, understanding. As long as he knew what kind of game they were playing, he could know what to expect.

They were talking in hushed voices as he waited in the corner for them to acknowledge him. The shadows of the room fell across him in a way that made him almost invisible, but he knew they knew he was there. One of them, a woman, turned and stared at him through her emotionless mask. He stared back, face carefully blank. She stood, and he stepped forward.

“There is a man who has been sentenced to death,” the Owl said. “His life is yours for the taking.”

She handed him a picture, and he had to work hard to keep his face from showing his surprise. This wasn’t like any other assignment he’d gotten. All his assignments, up until now, had at least had their face uncovered. He looked up at the woman again.

“Go,” she said. “Drive a talon through his head.”

…

It was a night like any other patrol night. Bruce hadn’t stopped anything but the usual mugger. Gotham, he thought grimly to himself as he landed on the next rooftop, was quiet.

That couldn’t be a good thing. Gotham was never quiet.

Yes, there was the occasional slow night, but both the Riddler and Clayface had recently escaped Arkham. By all means, the city should have been in chaos by now, lit up with green question marks and punctuated with smears of clay. But instead, it was quiet.

So for now he had two working theories. One, they were planning something big, which he would have to prepare for as well. He was already making a mental list of all the things he would need to fend off an attack of that scale. The list grew longer with every night that there was no word from either of them. Two, they were in the middle of their own turmoils. That was the preferable option, but he couldn’t think what would keep them from the streets, short of the both of them miraculously reforming.

He walked to the edge of the rooftop and looked out on the city below. The lights twinkled, and cars rushed past, seeming to crawl like ants from this height. It was almost peaceful, the calm before the storm.

A light blinked in the corner of his mask, alerting him to a presence behind him. He tensed up, ready for a fight, and turned.

Nothing but shadows and empty rooftop.

“I know you’re there,” he said. “There’s no use in hiding.”

Still, nobody came out. He walked to the other side of the rooftop, leaning over the edge. Nobody. Whoever had been there was gone now.

He continued on his way, but now a bit more tense than before. As he fired his grappling line, his mind raced with possibilities. Of course, it could be that his suit was malfunctioning… but that would be worrisome in and of itself. He made sure that his suit was always in good condition. It was a matter of life and death. Of course, someone could always be following him, but…

He lost his train of thought midair as he felt the taut line suddenly go slack and himself begin to fall. Twisting midair, he aimed himself for a building, frantically trying to take control of the situation. He landed hard, less graceful than he should have been. He’d been caught off guard, lost in his own thoughts, and now he was paying the price.

He winced as he got up, and reached for his grapple gun, flicked the switch to retract the line. The _zzzzshwip_ was a familiar sound as he looked around, on guard. Whoever had done whatever to his line, they were dangerous. He had to be on high alert.

The line clicked back into place, and he looked at the ends. It wasn’t frayed, it was a clean cut. There was a hint of gold on the end- whatever had cut his line had been gold, or had some kind of gold leaf on it.

He glanced around the rooftop again but didn’t see anyone. If somebody had cut the line that precisely, they’d probably have to be closer to the end of the rope than to the rooftop he was now on. Most likely they were still getting here.

He heard it before he saw it, an almost imperceptible _swish_ that made him turn towards the sound. Before he could do anything more, though, a gleaming gold streaked towards him and embedded itself in his shoulder.

A knife. Black handle, golden blade. As he watched, a figure landed on the roof across from him, from the same place where the knife had come from.

The figure was short, though he couldn’t be sure of the age, he looked young. His face was obscured by a black mask and yellow goggles. He was wearing black armor with gold accents that glinted in the pale city lights. However, the thing that Bruce fixated on were the gleaming knives held in either hand, and the swords strapped to his back. As Bruce watched, the figure straightened up and fell into a fighting stance, knives held at the ready. His face was expressionless.

“Batman. The Court of the Owls has sentenced you to die.”

With that, he threw another knife at Bruce. Bruce sidestepped it, but it was a close call. The assassin lunged forward, and so did he. Whoever this was, they were quick. He found himself needing to be on the defensive more often than not, something that he wasn’t used to while he was in Gotham. He didn’t like it. It made him feel much more vulnerable than usual- whoever this was had been following him without him noticing, had cut his reinforced lines, and was successfully fighting him- winning, even. And he was about half Batman’s size.

His opponent’s movements were quick, efficient and deadly. He seemed to favor his knives. He slashed at Batman, Batman dodged out of the way and grabbed the assassin’s arm, yanking him forward. The opponent stumbled, but quickly recovered, using his other arm to stab the arm that held him. Bruce let go in surprise, and the other spun, quickly aiming another knife at Batman’s heart.

He managed to dodge, but only just barely. The knife aimed at his heart went into his shoulder, near the first one. _Alright, time to end this._ In his utility belt, there was some colorless knockout gas. He activated the switch, ignoring the sharp pain when he moved his arm, and held his breath.

Meanwhile, his opponent had produced more knives. This was the tricky part- Bruce most definitely did not want to be stabbed again, but he needed to keep the assassin close enough to him that the knockout gas could work. He grabbed a batarang to combat the knives. The assassin threw one, but he knocked it away. The assassin huffed in frustration, held up his second knife, and charged.

Bruce managed to combat the knife with his batarang, even though it was close. He silently thanked his knife fighting instructor from when he was seventeen, although he doubted his knife fighting instructor ever thought he was going to be fighting a short assassin looking for his life while dressed as a bat on the rooftop at night. She probably wouldn’t approve.

Still, even he knew he couldn’t keep this up forever. He needed to take a breath sometime. Luckily, it seemed that his opponent was slowing down, his moves becoming sloppier. It wouldn’t take much longer before he was unable to fight.

His opponent’s swings were more frantic now, more predictable. He seemed to be trying to end it quickly, realizing something was wrong. This was good for Bruce- his opponent exerting more energy would just wear him out faster, and Bruce could only hold his breath for three minutes and fifteen seconds.

The assassin staggered, and then collapsed to his knees, using his hands to break his fall. It looked like this fight was coming to a close. Bruce knelt down beside him, and took the knife away. With a small groan, the assassin collapsed to the ground completely. Bruce shut off the knockout gas container- it wouldn’t make much of a difference for his opponent now anyway. He reached out and tugged off the mask, along with the goggles. His eyes widened.

It was a _child._

…

“Wally West, you are dead!”

The shout wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in Mount Justice, so when Kaldur and Conner heard it, they looked at each other, rolled their eyes, and went back to their TV show. M’gann, however, turned curiously. She was more invested in her friends’ love life than in a forensics TV show- Wally and Artemis were as good as a telenovela any day.

“What did he do?”

The combined replies of “Nothing!” and “He ate my oreos!” sounded from the kitchen. M’gann gasped and flew up and into the kitchen.

“You ate her oreos? I was going to eat her oreos!”

Artemis gave M’gann a scandalized look, to which M’gann added, “I was going to ask you first!”

“Better.” Artemis turned back to Wally. “Not great for you, though.”

“If you don’t want someone to eat your oreos, leave a note on them or something! They were unmarked oreos! I plead the fifth!”

“This isn’t a court, baywatch,” Artemis snapped. “Get ready to feel my wrath.”

She started taking off her jacket. Wally stared at her in fear and confusion, unsure if she was actually about to fight him.

_Recognized: Batman 02. Black Canary 13. Guest A03._

“Wait, what?”

“Why is there a guest in the mountain?” Wally asked, looking grateful for the distraction.

“Let’s find out.” Kaldur was walking through the kitchen and towards the mission room. The others followed him, curious. When they made it to the mission room, however, they saw that it was empty.

Conner tilted his head, listening for things that the others couldn’t hear. “They went that way,” he said after a pause, pointing down a hallway.

As they walked down the hallway, they started to hear whatever Conner had heard- hushed muttering, sounding like Batman and Black Canary. They almost sounded frantic. Well, Black Canary sounded frantic. Batman sounded the same as ever. As the team rounded the corner, they saw the two of them standing in front of a window that they recognized as a two-way mirror- this was where the interrogation rooms were. Just then, Black Canary caught sight of them.

“Oh, you- you shouldn’t be here, you don’t want to see this,” she said, and yeah, she definitely sounded freaked out. It took a lot to get under Black Canary’s skin.

“I don’t see why not,” Batman said, turning- and, wow, he looked… bad. His batsuit was ripped, and poking out from underneath it they could see bandages. “The team hasn’t seen anything worse in the field, I’m sure.”

“He almost killed you!” Black Canary sounded indignant.

“Almost. But he’s locked up right now,” Batman said.

“Uh, who’s he?” Conner said.

“Yeah, who’s the guest? Also, what’s going on?” Wally asked.

Black Canary glanced at Batman. His face didn’t betray anything, but she must have seen something there, because she turned back to the team.

“There’s a kid in there. He nearly succeeded in killing Batman.”

The team traded apprehensive glances. _“How could a kid kill Batman? Isn’t Batman always prepared for this sort of thing?”_ M’gann asked through the mindlink.

“The only reason he didn’t is because Batman is prepared for just about anything,” Black Canary continued, oblivious to their conversation.

_“Oh.”_

“Wait, you said it was a kid. How young, exactly-” Wally said, moving forward to look in the window. “Oh, wow.”

“What is it?” Artemis asked, and the others moved forward as well, crowding around the window to see the assassin.

“Oh, _wow,_ ” M’gann breathed. The kid… was tiny. There was no other way to describe it. Or, well, he wasn’t tiny. She’d hazard a guess at him being around twelve to fourteen, but no older than that. He had dark hair and blue eyes that wandered around his cell. He didn’t seem to care that he was handcuffed and legcuffed to a chair, or if he did, he was a good actor. Other than the black and gold armor he was wearing, he looked like a pretty normal kid.

“Don’t let his size fool you,” Batman growled. “He’s dangerous.”

“He had a lot of knives,” Black Canary added helpfully.

“So… what now? Are you going to interrogate him?” Artemis asked.

“Yes.”

Black Canary side-eyed Batman, but didn’t say anything as he stepped up to the microphone button and pressed it.

“Who are you?”

The kid’s eyes snapped back to the window, but he didn’t say anything.

“The only way you have a chance of getting out of that room is if you tell us who you are.”

The kid didn’t seem to register the statement. Batman’s eyes narrowed.

“What or who is… the Court of Owls?”

The kid’s eyes snapped up, suddenly alert.

“Your death sentence, _duh._ ”

Surprise radiated through the mindlink. _“He doesn’t… sound like a killer,”_ M’gann thought hesitantly.

 _“What are they supposed to sound like?”_ Conner thought back.

 _“I thought the Court of Owls was just a kids’ story,”_ Artemis thought.

They all turned to her. _“What do you mean?”_

 _“You know, that creepy rhyme,”_ she thought. _“Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadow perch, something something something… uh, they watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed, speak not a whispered word of them or they’ll send a talon for your head.”_

 _“I’ve literally never heard that in my life,”_ Wally thought. Artemis shrugged.

_“It must be a Gotham thing.”_

Then her eyes widened. She stepped forward to speak into the microphone.

“Are you their Talon?”

The kid looked curious. “One of them. Who are you?”

“We’ll ask the questions,” Batman said, stepping up to take the microphone from Artemis. Artemis stepped back again. “What does it mean to be a Talon?”

“I’m their Talon,” he said again, as if it was all the answer they needed. “I kill for them.”

“So they’re the ones that ordered the kill,” Batman said. It was more of a fact than a question. “Why do they want me dead?”

The Talon looked almost amused. “Why do you think I’ll tell you anything?”

Black Canary stepped up. “You’re chained up in a secret base with next to no hope of rescue. If you help us, we might go easy on you. If you don’t, we won’t. It’s up to you to choose, but helping seems to be your best option.”

Talon actually smiled. “Please. The Court has eyes everywhere.”

Black Canary moved to respond, but Batman stopped her with a movement of his arm. He clicked off the microphone and turned to face the others.

“I doubt he’ll tell us anything more today. We’ll wait and try again tomorrow. For now,” he turned to Artemis, who stared back apprehensively, “I need to know about the Court of Owls.”

…

It was the next morning when M’gann went to take breakfast to Talon. She knew he was a hardened murderer or something, but she thought that maybe there was still something good in him, something worth saving. Of course, she would have brought him breakfast even if she didn’t think that. He was just a kid, after all.

...And maybe she watched too many touchy-feely movies. So sue her.

Anyway, she wasn’t going to talk to him, or at least not much. She had a feeling he wouldn’t talk back, from what she’d seen last night. But she might talk at him a little bit. Just a little, to make sure he knew that there were better paths than killing people for a living. No kid was a monster for no reason- maybe he just needed somebody to offer a different choice. Like in that one episode of ‘Hello, Megan!’ where-

She stopped in her tracks as she saw the window. The tray that she had been levitating in front of her clattered to the ground.

The room was empty. The Talon was gone.

 


	2. From a Shadowed Perch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent a long time on this chapter and it's still not perfect but whatever just take it

Dick rubbed at his wrists. They weren’t chafing anymore, but he still felt the lingering panic that had come with being captured. The Court was sure to not be happy with him. Panic stirred in his chest at the thought- the Court was swift with punishment, and he had never failed a mission before.

This Batman guy was different, though. He’d actually fought back, and well. Even after testing him with cutting his line, Talon wasn’t expecting him to be as good as he was. It had been a pleasant surprise, at first- _oh, look, he’s not dead, he actually does know what he’s doing with that thing-_ but it had soon morphed into frustration. He had almost found himself struggling as the fight went on- and then Batman had _beat_ him. He’d been knocked unconscious, captured, and questioned, and he hadn’t managed to escape until hours later. He knew as well as anyone that a Talon never lost, unless the Court wanted them to for some reason. But the facts were there. Batman had beat him. He was almost curious to see how he’d done it.

Still, now he was only waiting for his punishment from the Court. He was in the waiting room as they spoke, holding trial or whatever it was they did in that room. He’d only been in it a couple times, and he was not looking forward to going in again. It was too big. He didn’t like the bigness of it, for some reason he could never fully articulate. It just felt foreign to him.

The door opened.

On the other side stood a man, wearing a nice suit and a white mask. Behind him, Talon could see rows and rows of masked people, sitting in their boxes high above the ground. Talon stood, and made his way into the room.

All eyes were on him as he walked into the center. Rows and rows of white, emotionless masks, all eerily silent. The room wasn’t even a third full, but they still loomed over him. He tried to match their level of silence and emotionless masks as he padded across the hardwood floor. He should have taken a steadying breath before he’d come in, because he was feeling shaky, despite knowing he shouldn’t be. Whatever punishment the court had decided would be fair. He’d let his assignment go unfinished. The only thing the Court asked of him was to kill for them, and he’d managed to mess that up.

“Gray son of Gotham,” an Owl said. It was impossible to tell which one, because their masks covered their mouths. “You have failed us.”

“You let the sentenced individual get away virtually unharmed. When faced with other obstacles, witnesses to yourself, you let them be, and in doing so, gave them knowledge of our operations.”

Talon wanted to yell that _they weren’t my assignment I don’t kill people that aren’t my assignment_ but his lips felt frozen by the cold that was seeping into his bones. He hadn’t realized that the others in the secret base were his assignment too. He should have known, looking back on it, that the Court wouldn’t have been pleased, but he didn’t want to kill anyone that wasn’t his assignment.

“This error of such grave magnitude has given us pause,” the Owl continued. “We choose to not process you because we value your ability to think for yourself, even though it would be beneficial not to run the risk of your death while completing an assignment. Yet, you did not show this initiative.”

Ice seemed to run through his veins. They were going to _process_ him. That would be his punishment. He didn’t want to be processed, although he knew it was inevitable one day. No matter what they told him about it being an honor, the thought made him want to turn and run right out of the courtroom, before they could get to him.

“However, we acknowledge the Batman’s skill,” the Owl said.

_Wait, what?_

“He is famously hard to kill. Unfortunately, we need him dead soon, for new plans of ours to take shape. And so, you have been allowed another chance to kill him.”

He struggled to keep his face blank, and nodded once to show that he understood. He turned to leave.

“Talon.”

He turned.

“Remember, if you fail a second time, we will not be so lenient.”

He nodded a second time and left the room, the hairs on the back of his neck raised from the chill.

…

Bruce, contrary to what some may think, wasn’t a madman.

Most people who thought he was crazy didn’t know much about him, so he didn’t let it bother him much. In fact, he embraced it. Nothing struck fear into people quite like not knowing what someone dangerous was going to do next. It was why people were so afraid of the Joker: he was a total wild card, someone whose movements you couldn’t predict.

Bruce may have put up a lot of fronts, but that didn’t mean they were true. He’d gotten up close and personal with madness more often than most since he had donned the cowl. He knew what it looked like.

And that was the thing, wasn’t it? This kid- Talon- was very clearly not mad.

He hadn’t seemed to care much that he’d been captured and questioned, true; but the way he’d moved in their fight on the rooftop revealed more about how he really felt. His panicked moves suggested that he cared more than he would admit. And before that, the matter-of-fact way he’d announced that Batman had been sentenced to death- it all seemed to add up to a bigger picture. One that Bruce didn’t like.

He’d scanned for facial recognition once he’d gotten the mask off, of course. If he knew who the child was, he might be able to get a better view of how he’d gotten into the Court, and from there, a better view into how the Court operated. He’d sent the scans back to the Cave so that Alfred could look at them while he questioned the Talon. And after that, he’d gotten caught up in grilling Artemis for any information she could give him on this ‘Court of Owls-’ she hadn’t been able to tell him much, but it was more than he had known before. He supposed growing up among Gotham’s elite had left him relatively sheltered compared to others in the city.

Still, he needed more information. And now, if the facial scans had worked, he could get it. He pulled into the Cave, opened the top on the Batmobile, and climbed out.

Alfred wasn’t there. Bruce was mostly grateful for that. If he had been there, he would probably insist on checking over Bruce’s injuries, which would lead into making him rest, which would lead into him not getting any work done. He would rest, eventually, but he really needed to do this first. Something about seeing that kid, so ready to kill and hiding how afraid he was… it was unsettling.

Bruce sat down in front of his computer heavily. It had been a long day and a longer night, and he felt weighed down. Not just by the aches and pains of his body, but by the thoughts pinging through his brain almost faster than he could keep up. Why did this Court want him dead? Where did they get a child, and why did the child go along with them? How could he have missed this? What was the Court’s endgame, what were they striving for? There were too many questions and not enough answers. He didn’t like it.

Still, he was Batman for a reason.

He activated the computer, bright light washing over him, and was immediately presented with the same scans he took earlier. A young face, eyes closed. If it weren’t for the mask discarded next to him, and the fact that he was lying on the concrete roof, he would look like any other kid tired after a long day.

Bruce shook himself out of it. He didn’t need to be thinking like that right now. He needed facts, not emotion. Facts were what would help him solve this case. And if it turned out the Talon did need some sort of help, well… he could help him then. For now, he was just another variable in the equation. One that needed solving.

He turned his attention to a different part of the screen, instead of dwelling on the pictures. _112 matches found._ He clicked on the link and found himself looking at a plethora of faces, all from news articles, magazines, and the like. Some of them featured more than one person, but each one had one thing in common. A small boy- eight at most- wearing a bright red performer’s outfit. In some of the pictures he was smiling at the camera. Others looked more candid. Bruce stopped on one picture that included a headline: “Flying Graysons Come to Star City.”

The Flying Graysons… the name sounded familiar. Putting aside the pictures for now, he tried a different search. Moments later, he was sitting in front of a huge mass of information: youtube clips, social media posts, pictures- but most prominently, news stories.

Bruce started to sort through the information. Not a simple task, but soon he had the bare basics of a story: The Flying Graysons were a family of acrobats that performed in a traveling circus. They were famous in many circles for performing daring stunts without a net. But one day, while they were performing in Gotham, the wires broke, and they plummeted to their deaths in front of a crowd. The only survivor had been their youngest member, Richard Grayson, but he’d disappeared about two weeks after the incident and hadn’t been seen since.

That was the part he was interested in- at least, for means of the case. Richard Grayson had to be the Talon. He’d been eight when his parents had died, which would put him at thirteen now. Bruce looked back at the pictures he’d taken- the kid in the picture could easily be thirteen. That, paired with the fact that Richard Grayson had disappeared mysteriously, made it too suspicious to be a coincidence. Richard had to be the Talon.

Bruce could see it all in his head. Eight years old, parents dead, not knowing what was going to happen to him. Everyone talking above his head, but never right to him, unless they were giving bland reassurances. Then suddenly, someone snatched him up, took him to their organization, and he went along with it. Because there was nowhere else to go. No one to turn to for help.

Bruce sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

He wasn’t going to be able to be impassive about this, was he.

...

Artemis had told Batman all she knew about the Court of the Owls- which was, admittedly, not much. She knew what any Gothamite living in a seedy part of the city knew: There was a secret society that ruled over Gotham, weaving things to go the way that they wanted it to go, and if you went against them somehow, they would send ‘a talon for your head.’ Kids in her apartment building used to speculate on what exactly that last line meant, because it wasn’t like talons could just fly into your house and stab you in the head, probably.

Probably.

Sometimes people would claim that they’d had a brush with the Court- Lily Harris swore up and down that they’d come for her aunt, because when she’d gone to visit, she’d found blood on the floor and stab marks on the walls. Most people had ignored her, because that wasn’t proof the Court had been there. Lily’s aunt worked for the mayor, there were probably a bunch of people that wanted to kill her. There were a couple little kids, though, that would gather close with wide eyes as she told her story for the hundredth time. Still, even they’d grown out of it after they were too old to believe in fairy tales. Because that was what most people thought the Court was- a fairy tale made to keep children in line. She had told Batman as much. He hadn’t seemed pleased.

When M’gann had called them all to the cave to show them the empty room, he’d been even less pleased. They’d all expected him to leave in a creepy huff like he usually did, but for some reason, he hadn’t. Instead, he assigned them a case.

In Gotham.

That was a pretty big deal, Artemis knew. If Batman was willing to let metas into Gotham, then he probably thought these Owl people were a serious threat. The others recognized the seriousness of the situation as well. That was how she got to be rooting around in Gotham’s sewer system, more or less. Which she did _not_ appreciate.

_“Okay, I know this is seriously bad and all, but he couldn’t have done this himself?”_ She thought through the mindlink.

_“Hey, we take any job. No matter how big, no matter how mucky,”_ Kid Flash responded right away, shaking some gross thing off his boot.

_“We did not sign up for this job because it would be fun, or easy,”_ Kaldur said. _“We did this to protect innocent lives. Like Batman’s, and the many others that this Court has undoubtedly taken.”_

_“Okay, but still,”_ Artemis said. _“I mean, what are the chances of us actually finding a clue down here? This place is huge.”_

Kaldur seemed to sigh internally. _“I do agree that not much may come out of this. But we must be thorough, especially with something so grave.”_

_“I do get that,”_ M’gann thought. _“Still, if I was an elite secret society, I wouldn’t hide anything important down in the sewers.”_ She was floating above the muck, watching it as if she didn’t trust it.

_“I mean, a disproportionate amount of Gotham supervillians_ do _have lairs in sewers,”_ Artemis thought back.

Before anyone could respond, the comm units beeped, and Batman’s tinny voice sounded through the receiver.

“Batman to the Team. Abandon mission and come back to the cave. We have a guest.”

…

Talon had tracked Batman to an old bell tower on top of Gotham Academy. He wasn’t sure what Batman was doing there- it looked like he was just standing. Talon had watched him for a while now, but he hadn’t moved. If he wasn’t better at his job, he’d probably mistake him for a shadow. Maybe he was on a stakeout or something? It didn’t seem like he was aware that he was being tracked. Then again, he’d learned last time not to underestimate the Batman. He couldn’t make a mistake this time. He had to be prepared for anything, assume that Batman already knew he was there. But he couldn’t take any more time to silently observe, either. He’d already gone over every scenario he could think of in his head- by now, he was just putting off the inevitable.

Mind made up, Talon leapt soundlessly from the rooftop he’d been on, rolling with the impact of hitting a second roof, but not stopping. He ran across, took a flying leap, and landed on top of the bell tower. From there, he swung himself down and landed silently on the windowsill. At least, he thought he’d landed silently. But Batman turned around immediately.

“Talon,” he greeted.

Talon wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he decided to ignore it. “Batman. The Court of the Owls has sentenced you to die.”

Despite his words, he didn’t move from his place on the windowsill. Instead, he stood still and waited.

“Why do they want me dead?”

Talon blinked, caught off guard. For a moment, his expressionless mask slipped, and he knew the surprise was showing on his face.

“What do you mean?”

“Why do they want you to kill me? What’s their reason for why I shouldn’t live?”

He swung his legs down from the windowsill so he was standing facing the Bat. “They don’t tell me that sort of thing.” he paused for a beat, then- “They want you out of the way for big plans they have in place.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know.”

“I don’t. That’s just what I got from their wording.”

He pulled out a knife.

“If they have big plans in place, wouldn’t it be good for you to know about them? Won’t they affect you?”

“It doesn’t matter whether they affect me or not.”

Batman frowned. He was silent for a moment, and Talon raised his knives.

“I have a proposal,” Batman said.

Talon remained silent.

“If you help us figure out what the Court of the Owl’s plans are, then I’ll help you escape them.”

Talon huffed out a laugh in surprise. “You can’t escape the Court of Owls. It’s impossible.”

“But you want to, don’t you?”

He stayed silent. It was true that he didn’t exactly like killing people, but… there was nothing else for him. He was nothing more than a shadow in other’s lives. He was a Talon, he didn’t get a life of his own. He’d had a shot at one, once- but that was all over now. No way could he go back.

“You don’t seem in a rush to kill me,” Batman said. “I don’t think you want to.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “You have to die.”

“Fine then. Help us first, and then you can kill me.”

“Oh, I’m sure the Court will be totally fine with that.” Talon could have sworn he saw Batman’s lips twitch upwards at that, but he didn’t say anything.

“Alright, then. Kill me now.” Batman spread his arms in surrender _._

Talon stared at him, confused. That wasn’t- he didn’t- of course he had to kill him, but this had to be a trap. Somehow. Batman was playing some game, and he couldn’t figure out what he was supposed to do.

Batman dropped his arms. “You didn’t move.”

“Would you rather I had?” It came out more frustrated than he’d meant it to.

“No, I’d rather you help me with whatever they’re planning, and I’d help you escape the Court. You deserve a life of your own.”

Talon hesitated. This was ridiculous, he should just kill the Batman now.

“I promise you, if you come with us we won’t hurt you.”

Talon stared at him, hesitant. No way was he telling the truth. Batman couldn’t promise something like that. Talon would go with them, and then they’d turn on him and trap him up forever, at least until the Court came for him and processed him. It was the stupidest offer ever made.

It was also probably the nicest.

Batman was being an idiot. Anyone could see that. But Dick had been a performer, and if there was one thing he knew, it was how to put up a front. Batman… didn’t seem like he was lying. Which meant he was serious, which meant he was an idiot who actually trusted the assassin sent to kill him to not betray him. And even more, he thought he could take down the Court, and he thought he could… _save_ Talon, or something. Talon didn’t believe he could do any of that, not for a second.

But he also couldn’t bring himself to kill him. Not right after he’d offered his help.

He shifted out of his fighting stance and put away his knives. “Fine.”

…

Artemis came in through the Zeta tubes next to last, and what she saw made her stop in her tracks.

“You!”

“Me,” the Talon said calmly.

“What are you doing here?” Conner asked, materializing behind her.

“Talon has information. He’s agreed to work with us for a time to gather information on the Court of Owls.” Batman said, his back to the team. He was doing something on the holo-computer.

The Team all glanced at each other. It was M’gann who spoke up.

“Batman, are… uh, are we sure we can trust him? I mean, he works for the Court, why would he want to help bring it down?” The Talon in question shifted where he was sitting on the floor, looking bored. He didn’t seem to care what M’gann was saying about him. Artemis wondered if he had emotions, or if he was a metahuman who operated on logic alone, or something.

“We don’t have much of a choice,” Batman growled. “If what he’s saying is true, we’ll need his help.”

The Talon pushed himself up from where he’d been sitting on the ground. “There’s a couple different bases. Most of them are pretty heavily populated, but there is one that might not be this time of year. It’s not hard to get into if you have access, but none of you do.”

“So… we’re going to break into a secret base, aided by a Talon that works for owners of said secret base, and try to find information while snooping around in enemy territory with one of said enemy,” Artemis said. On the mindlink, she added, _“Great plan.”_

“Artemis, stand down,” Kaldur said. “We follow Batman’s orders, not our own impulses.”

Batman turned. “I understand that this is unexpected. But time is of the essence.”

“Why? I mean, it doesn’t look like the Talon is going to kill you anytime soon,” Wally said.

“Because,” Batman growled, “The Court is planning something.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some things I thought of while editing: why does bruce have such a big computer. literally why. that's just... the stupidest idea. anyone could be looking over your shoulder bruce. plus you're going to hurt your neck always craning it to see the screen. why would you do that to yourself.  
> but I mean we all know that it's because he's all about the Drama(TM)  
> ALSO before I forget please don't /you/ forget to comment or kudos if you liked it because those are my lifeblood. thank you to everyone who did that last time without me asking for it or anything. Please know that I would die for you.


	3. Free Agency

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been editing this literally forever. I wanted it to be longer than what it currently is, but I just can't do it, so... just take it I guess  
> probably the next chapter will be up faster than this one was. don't hold me to that, though.

The backlash from the announcement that the Court was planning something was understandable. Annoying, but understandable. These people knew next to nothing about the Court, except that they’d sent him to kill one of their leaders. It was probably upsetting.

Still, he could have done without the accusing looks and suspicion rolling off of the members. Especially from that Artemis girl, but the others were doing it too. Well, the green girl was giving him worried glances more than anything, but, you know. Same difference.

It made him feel more alienated than he already did. He was completely out of place here, a Talon in a superhero hideout, helping the enemy of everything he did. It felt like armor that was too big for him- heavy and hard to move in. Every instinct was telling him to get out of there, but he knew he couldn’t go back to the Court without having killed Batman. And he still couldn’t bring himself to kill Batman. So here he was, in the middle of a huge mess he’d made for himself. If he hadn’t started to see Batman as another person, if he hadn’t engaged in conversation with him, he wouldn’t be here. This was why the Court liked their assassins silent. He’d never been good at that part, and now look where it had gotten him.

Anyway.

They had decided that they would strike that night, which meant they had all day to prepare. He tried not to think about how the Court had probably noticed he was missing by now. He kept repeating the words Batman had said in his head- _he promised, he promised, he promised, I won’t get hurt_ \- but only in his head. On the outside, he was flippant and only lightly interested in what they were planning.

The green girl and Artemis had gone out to get them food. Kid Flash had gone with them, claiming that he wanted to make sure they got the right stuff. Talon was pretty sure that he just wanted to hang around Artemis more. They stuck too close to each other for people who argued that much.

Aqualad- he was pretty sure his real name was Kaldur?- had started discussing precautions that would be taken when breaking in. Apparently Batman was going with the rest of them, which was something that didn’t seem to happen often, according to the raised eyebrows and side-glances the Team had given each other when they’d found out. Talon, for his part, was sitting on the floor, sketching out a vague map of the base from what he remembered of it. It might not have been completely accurate, but it would be a good guideline. His mask was off, the familiar gold tint of the world absent. It made the whole place seem even more unfamiliar to him, as if he’d fallen into another dimension. He’d taken it off because he figured the others might trust him more then. Not that it had helped.

Superboy was lurking behind him. Talon was trying to ignore that.

Finally, he sighed and gave up. “If you have something to say, you could say it instead of just standing there,” he said without turning his head.

Superboy walked up to sit next to him, looking somewhat abashed. “Sorry,” he said. “I just, I have a question.”

Talon didn’t respond, but raised his eyebrows.

“Why do you work for them?”

Talon stayed silent.

“I mean, you’re like, a kid, right? How’d you get mixed up in this stuff?”

“How did _you?”_ Talon countered.

Superboy blinked in surprise. “It’s all I’ve ever known.”

Talon stayed silent, waiting for him to elaborate.

“I mean, I’m a clone. Of Superman. Created to be a weapon that could take him down. If it weren’t for Aqualad and Kid Flash rescuing me from the labs that I lived in- Cadmus- I probably would have stayed a weapon.”

Talon stared at him, abandoning his map. “That sucks.”

“Kinda. I mean, the team helped me out. Helped me realize that I could be more than a weapon. Nobody can control me like that now.”

He paused, seeming to relish the idea. A small smile played across his lips. Then his attention snapped back to Talon.

“What about you? How’d you get in this?”

Talon stared at his map to avoid Superboy’s eyes. Finally, he spoke.

“What the Court wants, the Court gets. And you can’t get away from it. They control everything.”

They were both quiet for a while.

“I bet the League could help you,” Superboy said finally. Talon gave him a curious look.

“They could help you get away from the Court. If you wanted to. You could join the team, like I did.”

Talon rolled his eyes. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. None of your League even knew the Court of Owls even existed until two days ago. I’m fine by myself.”

“Just because you’re fine by yourself doesn’t mean you have to be,” Superboy said.

Talon resumed making his map, and didn’t answer.

After a couple minutes of silence, Superboy got up and walked away.

…

“So, we’re going to Big Belly Burger?” Artemis asked. They’d been debating for a long time over where to go, but she thought they had finally narrowed it down.

“Yup!” M’gann said before Wally could say anything. Wally closed his mouth (he had been rooting for Wendy’s).

“Ugh, fine,” he grumbled. “Hey, are we getting anything for Owl dude?”

“I would assume so. Even assassins need to eat, right?” M’gann said. She was wearing jeans instead of her usual skirt, because it was getting late enough in the year that it was too cold for a skirt. A couple minutes ago, they’d passed some kids pretending they were smoking by blowing their puffs of breath into the cold air.

“I guess so,” Artemis said. “I don’t trust him, though.”

“Yeah, same,” Wally said immediately. “I think Bats is probably not thinking straight ‘cause of the murder attempts.”

Artemis rubbed her hands together and blew on them as they walked. She wished she had brought a jacket. Her mom had told her to bring a jacket, when she’d stopped by the apartment to say that she would be doing team stuff and probably wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.

“Yeah,” she said. “I don’t get it. Usually he’s pretty smart. But this kid… I mean, I’m not the only one who gets major creep-out vibes from him, right?”

“Yeah,” Wally said emphatically at the same time M’gann said, “Not really.”

Artemis turned to her. “What do you mean, ‘not really?’ This entire thing feels way too much like a setup.”

“I know, but… he can’t be older than, what, fourteen?” M’gann said, looking hesitant. “Probably younger. I just think it’s kind of sad. He probably doesn’t even know anything else.”

“That would suck,” Artemis said. _Don’t I know it._ “But it doesn’t really give a strong case for us trusting him. He tried to _kill_ Batman. And I don’t think he’d have a problem killing us, either.”

M’gann fell silent, apparently not knowing how to answer. Artemis watched her, not saying anything. She looked kind of upset. It almost made Artemis want to apologize… but she wouldn’t. M’gann was new to Earth, and she didn’t know yet how horrible it could be. Artemis did, and she wanted to protect her from that. If M’gann got attached… well, it would be like when Jade left all over again, but this time with Artemis watching from the sidelines, instead of as the recipient.

She knew how it felt to be betrayed by someone. It was better that M’gann didn’t get her hopes up, because she didn’t deserve to go through the same thing Artemis did.

“I just think we should give him a chance,” M’gann said, breaking the silence. “I mean… he’s just a kid, right?”

“Yeah, a kid who has literally _killed people_ ,” Artemis said. “He’s not some innocent little child who needs saving, M’gann.”

“Well, how do you know? We don’t know anything about him! What kind of kid signs up to work with assassins voluntarily?” M’gann’s voice had a slight edge to it, as if Artemis was being completely unreasonable.

 _My sister does,_ Artemis thought, but she didn’t say it. Instead, she said, “There’s always a choice. He made the choice to hurt people.”

M’gann turned to Wally desperately. “Wally, what do you think?”

Wally looked alarmed at being suddenly put on the spot. “Uh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, Megs, I actually side with Artemis on this one. He had a choice.”

“Well- well-” M’gann looked frustrated, almost like she was going to burst into tears. “Well, maybe he shouldn’t have had to make a choice!”

She stalked away, walking faster towards the Big Belly Burger. Artemis and Wally exchanged a look, and hurried to catch up.

...

Kaldur was studying the map the Talon had drawn when the zeta tubes announced the arrival of lunch. M’gann came through first, looking annoyed and levitating Big Belly Burger bags. Wally and Artemis came through at the same time, Artemis carrying two more bags. Wally, it seemed, had not been trusted to carry anything.

As he watched, Wally and Artemis gave each other a look. M’gann was already in the kitchen, and they could hear her getting plates out a bit louder than she needed to.

Kaldur approached the two. “What happened,” he said, resignedly. It was a welcome change from the two arguing with each other, but it still wasn’t great.

“Man, I don’t know! We were just talking and she got really upset!” Wally said.

“What were you talking about?” Conner said, walking up to them.

“Talking about, you know,” Artemis lowered her voice and leaned in, “our guest.”

“What about him?” Kaldur asked.

“Whether we should trust him or not. M’gann thinks we should give him a chance.”

“And you don’t.” Conner deadpanned.

“Are you kidding me? Crazy ninja assassin guy is suddenly allowed access to our base after, what, almost killing Batman? Twice?” Artemis hissed. “I’m just saying, there’s a reason Batman’s not giving him access to the _other_ base.”

"I mean, we don't have access to the other base either," Conner said.

“It is a strange situation. Maybe one that might be better discussed over lunch,” Kaldur said, giving them his best ‘meaningful look’ face.

They all got the hint and headed to the kitchen, where M’gann was. She glanced up at them, a fixed smile on her face. “Oh, good, we can eat now,” she said. “Uh, we got a lot of cheeseburger meals, Wally, you’re allowed to have four of them. That leaves enough for the rest of us. We also got fries. We didn’t get any drinks, you can get your own from the fridge though!” She was still smiling. It was a bit unnerving.

“Uhhh, okay then,” Wally said, moving forward to take his four meals. “You… okay, Megs?”

M’gann took a deep breath and braced herself against the countertop. “I’m fine,” she said. “This is a weird situation. I get it. We shouldn’t argue. Do you want juice?”

The others glanced at each other uneasily.

“Uh, I’m… I’m good. Thanks for offering,” Artemis said finally. “But seriously. We’re sorry for upsetting you.” She glared at Wally meaningfully.

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that,” he said sheepishly.

M’gann relaxed against the counter. “Don’t worry about it, guys. I just… I can’t make myself believe that any kid is a monster. Nobody’s really… a monster.”

Kaldur decided to intervene. “No. Nobody is a monster. That doesn’t mean people don’t make bad decisions sometimes. People are flawed. They make mistakes and quickly get tangled up in them.”

The team fell silent, all lost in their own thoughts. It was Wally who broke the silence.

“So… are we just going to philosophize and watch this Big Belly Burger’s get cold, or…”

“Yeah, no. I need to eat,” Conner said.

They all started taking their meals. The talking turned more light-hearted (“Hey, M’gann, did you catch up on that TV show I showed you?” “Oh, yeah, I got up to the part where Duncan died! I’m pretty sure he’s coming back, though,”) as they pulled open the plastic wrapping. The conversation came to a halt, however, when Conner glanced up at the doorway. “Oh, hey.”

“Hi,” Talon said from his place in the threshold. He looked somewhat confused, as if this wasn’t what he’d expected to walk into.

“Oh! Hi!” M’gann said brightly. “Do you want a cheeseburger? We got some for you, if you want it!” She gestured to the bag on the table, which only had one meal left in it.

Talon stared. He looked completely nonplussed. M’gann smiled back, seemingly unperturbed.

“Um. I’m fine.”

“Oh.” M’gann’s smile dimmed a bit. “Uh, we’ll leave it out if you want it later, okay?”

Talon nodded, and disappeared from the entryway.

Wally waited a moment to make sure he wouldn’t be overheard, then said, “Man, what kind of person doesn’t take fast food when it’s offered?”

M’gann didn’t comment. Instead, she said, “Hey, there’s still a bit of time before the briefing, right? You guys wanna watch a show?”

After they all agreed, they moved into the living room. Of course, the living room was much the same space, but they moved a couple feet to sit on the couch. Soon they were all absorbed in whatever sitcom it was now- Kaldur wasn’t up to date on surface-world media, something Wally and Artemis claimed needed to be rectified as soon as possible. Still, they hadn’t gotten around to the marathon that they said would happen sooner or later- most of the time they just kept making an ever-growing list of what they would make him, Conner and M’gann watch.

While The Office played in the background, Kaldur got up to get a glass of water. As he moved around the couch to get to the kitchen, he smiled to himself. The bag containing the last Big Belly Burger meal was gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you comment you're my favorite person in the whole world and I will reply to your comment and gush about it


	4. Fear and Leverage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey before we begin lemme say thankyouthankyouthankyou to the people who commented- when I logged on this morning I saw my inbox had 3 messages in it, and I was SO. HAPPY. guys you have no idea. it was the best feeling ever.
> 
> anyway, this next part is why I wrote the whole fic in the first place. (well, this chapter and the one after that.) I call it 'the chapter where shit goes down.'  
> enjoy :)

That green girl- Megan? She was nice.

She’d defended him, he thought to himself as he munched on a french fry. He’d never had french fries before, at least he was pretty sure he hadn’t. They tasted good. He’d heard their conversation drifting through the hall, and even if he’d only heard snippets of it, he could tell that she was nice.

She was wrong, of course. A Talon was no ordinary kid, they were a trained killer. He’d killed lots of people before. He was pretty sure that made him a bad person, no matter how old he was.

She was still nice, though. She’d gotten him food.

This whole thing was confusing, not just Megan. These people worked for Batman and took orders from him, but they had been the ones to suggest getting lunch, and then they’d decided to watch TV without even asking. Batman hadn’t seemed to care that they weren’t doing anything, although according to him, they couldn’t strike until it was night. There wasn’t much to do.

_ Still. _

“What are you doing?”

Talon whirled around to face Batman. He hadn’t heard him approach- he must have been more lost in thought than he’d thought. He’d have to stay more alert.

Batman’s eyes narrowed in on the french fries he held in his hand. Talon shifted defensively. “They offered,” he said.

“I’m sure they did,” Batman said. “I’m just curious why you’re eating in the hallway and not the kitchen.”

He opened his mouth to stir up some excuse, something to brush him off like he always did. When the Court had no use for him, he could go out into the streets sometimes and do what he wanted, as long as it didn’t interfere with the Court’s plans. But there he was nothing more than a shadow. He knew he didn’t belong there, but it was easy to pretend and slide through on the edges. Here, Batman was focused directly on him, and there were no edges to slide through. “I,” he began.

Batman seemed to soften, almost. Which was ridiculous. From what he’d heard of Batman, he wasn’t soft. Especially not with people who killed.

“You don’t want to be around them.” It was a statement of fact. He had noticed Batman did that a lot, stating things instead of asking them.

“They’re fine,” Talon said, but he didn’t elaborate on it.

“You think they’ll change their minds about the food?”

“No,” he said.

Batman didn’t say anything. They stood there, silent, in some sort of facedown that was similar but at the same time very different from what he was used to. Finally Batman spoke.

“What does the Court feed you?”

Talon blinked. Was this another swipe at information, trying to squeeze out everything he knew about the Court? “They… they don’t.”

Batman stared at him for a long time. “They should,” he said finally.

“I’m just their Talon. They don’t have an obligation to me.”

“Yes they do. You’re a child in their care.”

Frustration built up inside of him. It was getting annoying how everyone was so fixed on him being a kid.

“No,” he said evenly, “they  _ don’t.” _

…

They were being cautious. Walk a couple paces, stop to make sure they weren’t being followed. Every once in a while Artemis would shoot an arrow at a security camera that would turn them on a loop. They’d made it into a hallway hidden in a nondescript door, off of an alleyway in about five minutes.

For Kid Flash, it was torture.

The stress of sneaking into enemy territory frayed at his nerves, and each second they lingered was a second they could be caught. It didn’t help that they were being lead into enemy territory by one of the enemy they were supposed to be sneaking up on. If he thought about it too long, his brain started to hurt. There were a million things that could go wrong.

Still, M’gann had a point. He was just a kid. And, well, he was an assassin, but he was helping them. At least, for now. Of course, this could all be a trap, but it seemed like a pretty convoluted plan just to kill Batman. There were easier ways to kill him. Probably.

Really, Wally didn’t know what to think.

_ “This is mostly storage, so they’re not guarding it too heavily,” _ Talon’s voice reverberated through the mindlink.  _ “Still, there’ll be a couple. The Court really likes its secrets.” _

That was another thing- he was linked up to them. Most of the time when somebody’s thoughts were transmitted through a mindlink, you could catch a sense of their personality and their feelings with it. The only thing he sensed in Talon’s thoughts was tense guardedness.

_ “So, if there’s something with a lot of guards, that means it’s a big secret, right?” _ Artemis asked.

_ “Yeah.” _

_ “Don’t engage,” _ Batman ordered.  _ “These people are highly trained. If you can get past them without a fight, do so, but don’t start conflict.” _

The others didn’t look happy about this order, but they all nodded.

_ “We’re at the main cross. Storage is that way,” _ Talon said, pointing down a hallway.

_ “What’s down the other hallways?” _ Wally asked.

_ “An unused courtroom, some training rooms, stuff like that.”  _

_ “Split up,”  _ Batman ordered.  _ Aqualad, Miss Martian, you two come with me to check storage. Superboy, Artemis, you two check the courtroom. Talon, Kid Flash, you two check the training rooms. Keep in contact via mindlink.” _

Wally pressed his lips together, unhappy, but nodded. The split ups made sense. Talon beckoned him down the right hallway, and he followed. 

Once they were a safe distance away, Talon spoke in a hushed whisper. “What does Batman want with training rooms?”

Wally gave him a panicked  _ shut up _ look. Talon rolled his eyes. “There’s nobody too near. We’re fine for now.”

“How do you know?” Wally whispered.

“I have good hearing. And it’s pretty warm here,” Talon said. “It’s always colder when the others are around.”

Wally gave him a suspicious look, but decided to roll with it. “I don’t know what Batman wants. He likes being thorough, I guess.”

Talon hummed softly. “He knows this is just scratching the surface, right? I doubt the Court would leave anything actually important unguarded.”

“Yeah, but if you get enough small stuff it can add up to the big stuff,” Wally whispered back. “You of all people should know that.”

“What? Why me?”

“Well, you’re a super good fighter and stuff, right?” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word assassin. This kid did not seem like an assassin- “But you’re also, like, what? Five feet?”

Talon stared incredulously at him. “Are you calling me  _ short?” _

“Just a little vertically challenged, yeah,” Wally said, smiling.

Talon stared at him for a beat- then he smiled hesitantly. “I’m not too short. You’re just too tall.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’re just short,” Wally said, knocking up against Talon’s shoulder. Maybe he should have felt unnerved at how easily he was joking around with a hardened killer, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Just then, Talon slowed.

“We’re here,” he said, hushed and hesitant.

They were standing in front of a nondescript metal door. A nameplate next to it said that it was room 116, the ‘Science Lab.’ Slowly, Talon turned the handle, and they stepped inside.

The room was dark, but even in the faded light, Wally could tell it didn’t look like a training room. It just looked like a normal science lab. But then again, on second glance…

“Hey Talon?” Wally breathed, picking up a test tube that sat on the counter. “What’s electrum?”

Talon turned, his eyes wide. “Nothing good,” he hissed back. “Coupled with some of the other stuff in here, it’s used to process older Talons.”

“Process?”

“It’s… it makes them nearly unbeatable. Once you’ve been processed, the only way you can be killed is by a very specific brand of poison. It’s probably in here somewhere too.”

Wally stared at him. “I thought you said these were training rooms.”

“This is just the foyer,” Talon said. “It’s not the actual room.”

“Okay…” Wally put the vial of electrum in his glove compartment. “Where’s the room, then?”

Talon headed deeper into the room, pushing aside a plastic skeleton and a medical chart to reveal a door.

“Oh,” Wally said. “I didn’t see it.”

“That’s kind of the point,” Talon said. He seemed tense. He didn’t seem like he was in a hurry to open the door, so Wally headed over and pulled it open for him.

They walked into a room lined with weapons on the walls. Knife marks lined the walls, the floor, and sometimes the rafters. In the center of the room, there was a ring, something like you would see on a wrestling channel. Instead of ropes blocking off the ring, spear-looking spikes created a fence between the ring and the rest of the room. If Wally looked closely, he was pretty sure he could see blood on the tips. _ Ugh. _

“Wait, so have you been processed?” Wally asked softly. He tried to imagine the small figure next to him as invulnerable. The two ideas didn’t seem to add up right in his brain.

“No,” Talon said shortly. “I’ve got a little electrum in me as insurance. But it’s nowhere near the amount they use for processing.”

“Insurance?”

“Faster healing times.”

“Hey, me too! I mean, not the electrum, but I heal fast.”

Talon gave Wally another small smile, but he had a weird look on his face. Before Wally could try to decipher it, he turned away, surveying the walls.

“So what are we looking for?” he hissed.

“Obviously not me,” came a voice from above.

Talon whirled and drew out his knives. Wally got into a fighting stance. From the rafters dropped down a man, bulky and dressed head to toe in black and gold, similar to the armor that Talon wore.

“You are a disappointment, Richard  _ Grayson,” _ the man said angrily. “The Court graciously gives you a second chance, and instead you become a traitor. One that is still unable to sense when I am near, I see. My training has taught you nothing.”

Talon (Richard Grayson?) looked frozen to the spot. “Cobb. What are you doing here?” he said faintly.

“I’m here with a warning.” the man said. “The Court of Owls is offering you one last chance. Either kill the Batman, tonight, or you will be processed. The Court has put up with your impudence for too long.”

“You’re crazy,” Wally said. Both Talon’s gazes flicked over to him. Under their gaze, he felt a lot less confident, but he plowed forward anyway.

“He’s not gonna kill Batman. He’s not gonna kill anyone, because he’s under our protection. If he helps us, he won’t get hurt. I bet that’s more than he can say for if he helps you.”

The two Talons stared at him. Talon- the one on his side- Grayson? looked almost like he was about to cry. The bigger one- Cobb- well, Wally couldn’t really tell what he was thinking, because his mask covered his entire face. But he seemed surprised.

Then he burst out laughing.

“Kid Flash, I know you’ve only been on this earth a few years longer than this one-” he gestured at Talon- “But you cannot really be so naive as to think that there is anywhere he can go that the Court will not find him. If he sides with you, he is truly doomed to processing, which I know is something he’d rather not go through, isn’t that right?” he directed the last part at his younger counterpart.

Talon looked upset. “I’m… I’m not-”

“I wouldn’t argue, Gray Son,” Cobb said. “Only a day with these heroes and already you forget your place.”

Talon gripped his knives hard. He looked back and forth between Wally and Cobb. Finally he focused on Wally.

“I’m really sorry,” he whispered.

And he threw the knife.

…

“I think I found something,” Miss Martian whispered. She held up a USB drive. “It was in a hidden compartment.”

“Good.” Batman held out his hand to take it. The only reason they were talking at all was because they hadn’t run into any guards the whole time. It seemed like the facilities were deserted after all. 

They had found the storage somewhat easily- the problem had been finding the stuff inside of it. There was regular-looking storage, but in order to find anything with Court affiliations, they’d had to dig deeper. Aqualad had already found some hard files, but a USB indicated more recent information. And they needed the most recent information they could get.

Miss Martian handed him the drive. He was about to tell her and Aqualad to continue looking, but just then, a noise sounded from somewhere outside the room. The three of them froze.

After a moment, Aqualad moved silently to the door and peered out. “Footsteps,” he murmured.

He turned back from the doorway. “It may be nothing but another group.”

Bruce knew he was right, but his gut said something else. Something was wrong. “We’ve already pushed our luck tonight. This will be enough.”

“We should rendezvous with the others, right?” Miss Martian asked.

“Yes. Are we still linked?”

She nodded affirmative.

_ “Batman to all points. Retreat and rendezvous on the roof of the building immediately.” _

He glanced at the two teenagers.

“Let’s go. Now.”

…

Artemis crawled onto the roof aided by her grapple arrow. Miss Martian, Aqualad, and Batman were already there, but Kid Flash and Talon had yet to show. Superboy climbed up behind her.

“Did you find anything?” Kaldur asked quietly.

“No,” Artemis said. “Just a dusty old courtroom. Though, if the Court is able to fill that entire courtroom, we’re looking at a big society. You?”

“We found something. We also heard something. Which is why we need to get out of here. We’re just waiting on Talon and Kid Flash now,” M’gann said.

“Right. Well, they better show up soon.”

“I’m here,” Talon said.

They all turned to see him as he crawled over the edge of the roof. Once he was up, he headed towards them.

“Did you find anything?” Superboy asked.

“Kid Flash did,” Talon said. He didn’t elaborate as he stopped in front of them, near Batman. His voice sounded strangely emotionless.

“Where is he now?” Kaldur asked, glancing behind Talon to check if Kid Flash had come over the side yet.

“He’s unconscious,” Talon said. 

The  _ wait, what _ hadn’t yet formed on Artemis’s lips before Talon sprung into action, hitting M’gann upside the head with the handle of his knife, doing the same to Kaldur, and then turning towards her, lunging forward like a snake about to snatch up his prey in his jaws.

Everything went dark.

...

Artemis came to with a splitting headache. Her eyes were still closed, but she could hear the sounds of a fight going on. Jade and Dad must have been at it again… wait.

Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up with a gasp. Looking around, she saw her teammates littered around her like flies. A couple paces away, Batman was battling the Talon. Wally was lying on the ground near her, and she wondered why- hadn’t he not been there before? Talon had said he was unconscious.

He must have done the same thing to Wally that he did to her, she realized- hit him with the handle of his knife to knock him unconscious. When Wally had woken up, he must have made his way to the roof and gotten knocked out a second time. Despite herself, she almost smiled. That was such a Wally thing to do. He always had the rottenest luck with this kind of stuff.

She sat up more fully, letting herself have time to get more oriented, and watched the fight between Batman and Talon. Talon seemed off his game- he was too desperate to really fight well. He almost seemed… scared.

It was crazy, but he almost seemed like the kid M’gann and Conner kept telling them he was.

But that was ridiculous, she knew. He was literally trying to kill Batman right now. He’d knocked out all her friends. And this wasn’t a new thing to him. The whole kid thing was just an act to get them on his good side. And it had worked.

Wally stirred next to her-  _ speed healing, right- _ and opened his eyes with a groan. Around them, their other teammates were starting to come to as well. Artemis stood, with the intention of joining the fight, but noticed a soft glow in the corner of her eye- she turned and saw a glowing green rock lying next to Conner.

_ Kryptonite.  _

She picked it up and put it in her pocket for safekeeping, and also so that Conner would wake up faster. If he woke up, the fight would pretty much be over. She decided to ignore the problem of where Talon had gotten Kryptonite for the moment in favor of kicking his ass for betraying her friends’ trust. She straightened and turned towards the fight.

Talon was lunging at her, and she pulled herself into a defensive position, but it was too late. He full-on bodyslammed her, and she fell to the ground. She heard Wally and M’gann cry out her name, but ignored them, pulling herself up to face Talon-

-who was staggering slightly, a knife sheathed right below his ribcage. As she watched, he pulled it out sharply and threw it into the night, in the direction it came from. If she squinted, she could make out a body shape on a faraway rooftop. Talon turned back towards Batman, knives drawn, and ran at him again.

...That knife had been meant for her.

That knife had been meant for  _ her. _

Her brain was short-circuiting, even as she watched Talon desperately try to kill Batman. He wasn’t going to be able to. Soon he would go into shock, and pass out… he could die.

Oh, no way was she letting him die on her watch.

She moved forward. Talon’s back was to her while he grappled with Batman, and she could see that the blood loss had already started affecting him- it didn’t help that he was moving around so much. He was getting sloppy. She folded up her bow and hit him on the head.

It didn’t knock him out like she’d thought it would, but then again, she’d been hesitant about using too much force. She didn’t want to give him a concussion. Instead, he fell to the side, landing hard on the rooftop.

He tried to push himself up, but he wasn’t strong enough. He fell back on the ground with a small groan of pain, eyes shut and face pale.

“Is he…” M’gann said hesitantly, walking over. The others were right behind her, crowding around his limp form.

“He’s alive. For now,” Batman said, feeling Talon’s neck for a pulse. “He needs medical attention.”

As Batman ordered M’gann to call the bioship and a flurry of activity started around her, Artemis turned.

From her vantage point she could see the place the knife had come from, even the rooftop that the figure had been on. She squinted hard, eyes roaming across that rooftop and the ones near it, but she couldn’t see whoever it had been. The figure had disappeared.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't expect updates this regular though. we're nearing the end of 'chapters I had all written out already' so I can't say how the schedule will go. (like my adhd self can ever say how the schedule will go, ha...) I write faster when motivated, though! the best way to motivate me is to comment and talk to me about what you thought, hint hint wink wink. I promise I don't bite :)


	5. Coming Together and Falling Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so done with this chapter just take it
> 
> also thank you to everyone who commented last time. yall are the real MVPs

Artemis had gotten onto the bioship in a haze. She’d been so lost in thought, she’d almost forgotten to give Batman the kryptonite she had in her pocket. She’d gone with Batman and Talon when they’d been dropped off at the nearest zeta tube and followed them to the medical wing, until Batman had told her to go wait in the living room because she wouldn’t be able to help anything by hovering. Wally and Kaldur were in the living room when she got there. M’gann and Conner were flying the bioship home.

Artemis sat down heavily on the couch, staring at the wall.

“Uh, Artemis, you okay there? You’re kinda acting like a zombie,” Wally said.

She didn’t answer his question, but turned to him. “You realize that knife was meant for me?”

“What?”

“He pushed me out of the way. One more second and that would have been me.”

“Why would he do that?” Kaldur asked. “If he truly cares nothing for us, he would have left you to die.”

“He does care, I think,” Wally said. They all turned to him expectantly. Artemis didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure what she would say.

“Before, when we were checking out the training rooms, there was another guy there. Some higher-up guy. He told Talon that he had to kill Batman tonight or he’d be processed.” Wally hesitated before speaking again.

“He seemed really scared. Plus, he apologized before knocking me out.”

They fell silent, letting the information sink in.

“What does he mean by ‘processed?’” Kaldur asked.

Wally opened his mouth, but before he could explain, another voice sounded- M’gann’s, from the doorway.

“Guys? We’re back. Batman wants to debrief now.”

Her voice was hesitant. She looked as tense as the others, her eyes scanning over them for any news they might have found. Artemis gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Alright then, let’s go.”

…

The debriefing was tense, to say the least. After Kaldur and M’gann had reported what they’d found- nothing more than a USB drive, but they didn’t know what was on it yet- Artemis and Conner talked about the empty courtroom that they’d found. Batman grilled them with question after question about how big it was, what type of room it was, whether there seemed to be any sections that could point to some kind of hierarchy. They answered as much as they could remember, but it was obvious that their minds were elsewhere.

It was M’gann who spoke up first, seemingly not able to wait any longer for news. “Batman, what happened? Talon-”

“Is in the infirmary,” Batman said. “But I’d like to know what happened before he got to the roof.”

“Right,” Wally said, taking the hint. He filled them in on what happened with Talon. Even though it was only the first time, he felt like he’d explained it a thousand times before. Probably because he’d been playing it over in his head ever since it had happened. It felt like there was a missing piece of the puzzle that he just wasn’t getting, but it was crucial that he figure it out. Judging by the looks on the others faces, they felt the same way.

“Why would you be afraid of being unbeatable?” Artemis asked, her eyes narrowed in that way she did that made her look ten times more intense than usual.

“Maybe he just doesn’t like the idea of other people doing things to his body,” Conner said.

“Or it comes with a price,” M’gann said. “There could be lots of ways something that big could go wrong.”

Kaldur didn’t say anything, but his face showed that he was just as mystified and concerned as the rest of them. He stared at Wally like he could somehow understand what had happened better just by looking at him.

“All good theories,” Batman said, immediately drawing their attention. “But for now… I’d like to see the electrum sample.”

Wally handed it over and Batman studied it before putting it in his utility belt.

“I’ll look into the science of it more. For now, you’re free to go.”

“But-!” Wally started. His protest was joined by the others. The last thing they wanted was to be sidelined right now.

“I said for now,” Batman growled, staring them down. “There is nothing we can do until we have further information. Once we do, we’ll take action again.”

“Right,” Wally said.

…

Dick was back in the training room. 

He wore his armor. His knives were in his hands. His eyes focused in on the details- the traces of blood on the spikes that had missed being cleaned, the sharp glint of the blades in his hand. His armor felt heavy against him. The metal was cold.

“Gray Son,” a voice said. It was Cobb, standing in front of Dick and watching him with interest, like he was an interesting bug that he couldn’t decide whether to squash or not. “Are you ready to fight me?”

“I don’t want to fight you,” Dick said.

“There is no choice,” Cobb said. “You must.”

Dick stared around the room. It was completely still, except for him and Cobb. Everything felt unfamiliar in a way, like something would fly out of the walls and attack him at any moment. The air felt sharp in his lungs.

“I want to go home.”

“You don’t have one.”

Cobb attacked, and it seemed like he was everywhere at once. His movements were fast and calculated, and it was all Dick could do to keep him from getting in a hit. He almost seemed to be a shadow. Never mind that they were in close combat, Dick couldn’t get a hit in. He whirled around desperately, jabbing and slicing, but it didn’t make any difference. Any time he got near his mark, Cobb disappeared out of the way.

He sensed a presence looming behind him, and he whirled around just in time to put up his knives, blocking a blow from the massive figure looming in front of him. His knives strained against Cobb’s, and he knew that he wasn’t going to win like this. He was much smaller and less strong. His opponent smiled, but it was a malicious smile of someone who’d already won.

“There, see? Now you’re  _ really _ fighting.”

Dick glared at him. He had to finish this.

In one sweeping move, he slid his knives to the side, knocking Cobb’s knife to the left as he dodged to the right, rolling and coming up behind him. He twisted as he got up, intent on driving a knife through Cobb’s neck-

But Cobb had turned as well, and he was ready for Dick. Before Dick could even process the flash of gold, a knife was in his chest.

Dick gasped as cold bloomed from the spot. He could feel his insides freezing, turning him to ice and killing him from the inside. Cobb didn’t react, but yanked the knife out and examined the blade. Then he turned back to Dick.

“See, this is what happens when you ask for things you can’t have.”

For a moment, he flickered, and was no longer Cobb, but Batman, watching disinterestedly as Dick clutched his chest. Cold was spreading through his body, but not faster than the panic did.

“ _ No, no no no no no, _ ” he chanted to himself. His chest seemed to seize up, and he couldn’t breathe. He looked back up at Batman, a pleading look on his face-  _ fix this, please, you said you’d help me- _ but Batman wasn’t there anymore. Neither was Cobb. He was alone. He was going to die. It was cold. He was dying.

He gasped, shooting upright.

A pain flared in his chest, and his hand went to it unwillingly. Ow ow ow ow  _ ow- _

A pair of large hands were pushing him down gently. He became aware of a voice, speaking through the weird haze. “-to lie down. You have a fever.”

He blinked. He was staring up at a white ceiling. He was in- a bed? It was really comfortable. Softer than what he was used to.

He looked to the side. Standing next to his bed was Batman. He startled, went to push himself up again, but Batman held out a hand in warning, and he stopped.

“Lie down,” Batman said.

He laid down.

“You’re back at our secret base,” Batman said. He wasn’t exactly growling. His voice was softer than that. But he wasn’t exactly warm, either. He seemed… tense. Upset? “You were injured. We’ve done what we can, but you still need to rest.”

Talon’s mind seemed to be processing things more slowly than usual. Either that, or whatever Batman had just said didn’t make sense. “What?”

“You were stabbed, and fell unconscious. We took you back to our base to try to heal you, but you still need rest.”

He did remember something about that, vaguely. A dark rooftop and a flash of gold. He’d been trying to kill the Batman, but after that, everything seemed fuzzy and out of focus.

“Why?” He asked, instead of trying to remember.

“Why what?”

“Why would you…” he stared at the ceiling, suddenly finding it uncomfortable to look Batman in the eyes. “Why would you bring me back here? I just tried to kill you.”

Batman didn’t say anything for a beat. Talon thought maybe he wasn’t going to respond. But then he spoke.

“We don’t leave people to die, no matter what they’ve done. Our job here is to help people.”

There was an uncomfortable sinking feeling in Talon’s gut. He felt- guilty, almost. He’d betrayed these people and they were still trying to help him.

“Besides,” Batman continued, “There are still questions to be answered.”

Annoyance flared in Talon’s chest. “Like what? The Court of the Owls can’t be stopped. You’re wasting your time. You should be trying to run damage control if you really care about the people of Gotham.”

Batman glared at him. Talon glared back. He was almost intimidated by Batman- he might have been able to beat him normally (Maybe- he didn’t exactly have a winning record), but he couldn’t even sit up right now.

“Where did you get kryptonite?”

“Your belt.” He saw no reason to lie. It wasn’t like he wasn’t doomed anyway.

Batman watched him, but didn’t say anything else about that. Apparently he wasn’t curious to know how Talon had gotten it without him noticing- which hadn’t been easy when he was on a rooftop, nowhere to hide and all eyes on him. For some reason, that was a little annoying. He didn’t know why, though. He barely knew Batman, and he’d tried to kill him twice. He shouldn’t care what he thought of him.

“Why did you save Artemis?”

“...What?”

“The knife. If you hadn’t stepped in front of it, it would have hit her. Why protect her?”

Oh. That was what was going on. Batman didn’t know what side he was on.

“She’s not my assignment. You are,” he said, after a pause. “I don’t let people die unless I’m supposed to.”

“And the Court would be all right with you letting somebody go? Somebody who could have valuable information about them?”

Talon looked away. It was true, but hearing him say it so bluntly was uncomfortable. He’d been avoiding that idea in his head, doing mental gymnastics around it. If he acknowledged it, that meant he had to kill the whole team.

“That’s what I thought,” Batman said.

Talon’s face heated up. For a second he felt like a little kid again, getting scolded by his parents, instead of a trained assassin having a dangerous conversation with the man he’d been sent to kill. He had the ridiculous urge to explain himself.

“If I killed you and not the others, the Court might have been satisfied,” he said. “They weren’t my assignments, so I wouldn’t have deviated orders.”

“You already deviated orders.” Batman’s voice sounded softer for a second.

“I know.”

They sat in silence. Talon couldn’t bring himself to look Batman in the eyes (eyelets? Mask? Cowl?) for some reason, so instead he looked at the bedspread. He traced his hands over the wrinkles in the fabric. Then Batman spoke.

“What happens now?”

Talon glanced up at him.

“That depends,” he said slowly. “I’m at your mercy right now, so for now, you decide what happens. Soon enough, the Court will catch up to me, and then they’ll kill me for not killing you. They’ll send someone else to do my job. I’ll be frozen away until they need me again.”

“You don’t sound very upset about that.”

“Which part?” Talon went back to studying the blanket.

“The part where the Court kills you.”

He didn’t say anything, resolutely tracing the blanket with his finger like it was the most interesting thing in the world. _ No use in getting upset, _ he wanted to say, but the words got stuck in his throat. Instead, he gave a half shrug. Batman studied him. He didn’t seem as tense as he had been before.

“What if there was another option?”

Talon didn’t look up. “There isn’t.”

“There could be,” Batman said.

“I doubt it.”

“The Court hasn’t been able to kill me,” Batman said.

“Thanks, I needed that.”

“Did they tell you who I am?”

Talon gave him a confused look. “You’re Batman.”

“I don’t wear this suit and fight crime all the time. I have a separate identity,” Batman said.

That made sense, actually, but it hadn’t occurred to Talon before. He tried to imagine Batman beneath the mask, maybe shopping for groceries, blocking the aisle with his big bulky self. He couldn’t do it.

“So? Why does that matter?” He said.

“It would be easier to kill me when I wasn’t Batman. I wouldn’t be expecting it,” Batman said. “Which means… the Court of Owls doesn’t know who I am.”

“So?”

“So, there’s something they don’t know. My operations are a secret to them. Which means my operations could hide you.”

“Um… what?” It sounded like Batman had just offered to hide him from the Court, which was… ridiculous. Batman wouldn’t do that for somebody who had been sent to kill him. And you couldn’t hide from the Court… right?

“I could hide you,” Batman said. “You could stop killing people, have a normal life.”

Talon stared at him, at a loss for words. Too many thoughts swirled around in his head, and he couldn’t pin them down long enough to form a sentence.

“My life will never be normal,” he finally managed.

Batman was quiet for a long time. “It could be,” he said. “You don’t have to be a Talon. You could have a different name, instead.”

Talon watched him. He seemed sincere. He really believed he could save him from the Court. And he was willing to do it, for somebody he barely knew. Talon looked down at his hands. Finally, he spoke.

“Dick,” he said.

“What?”

“That was my name. Richard Grayson. Dick for short.”

He looked up at Batman, hesitant. “You could… call me that.”

…

“We’re making our move tonight,” Batman said, striding into the briefing room where the others were gathered. Talon was following behind him, slightly slower. Probably because of the stab wound.  _ “Should he be up?” _ Conner wondered through the mindlink.

_ “He’ll be fine,” _ Wally said.  _ “He’s got like, speed healing or something.” _

_ “Um, what?” _ Artemis said, but Batman started talking again, so nobody answered.

“The Court has several bases, but we’re going to the most prominent one. If everything goes well, we’ll have the Court scattered by tomorrow morning.”

The team traded looks. “Um… how?” M’gann asked.

“Yeah, isn’t it super big?” Artemis said.

“It is,” Talon said. “But most of the people there don’t know what’s going on. All we need to do is aim for the people who do.”

The team traded looks.  _ “I guess he’s on our side now,” _ Conner thought, shrugging.

_ “Okay, then,” _ Artemis thought, then turned to the front.

“Who are the people who do, then?”

Talon shifted, looking uncomfortable. “We’re going to the Court, literally,” he said. “The main courtroom, where the Owls are.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait guys. this chapter was not cooperating with me. there's still some parts I'm not sure about, and it's a little shorter than I'd like, but whatever. thanks for being so patient, and as always, leave a comment saying what you thought if you want my undying love and devotion. I don't bite :)


	6. The Court

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait guys. Chapter five was my last pre-written chapter and I wanted to write a couple chapters ahead so that I could have less of a wait between chapters in the future. I haven't finished the last couple of chapters, but I've got a start on them, so... that's where this is at. the end is in sight. there'll probably be about ten chapters, eleven if I decide on an epilogue.  
> anyway, this chapter isn't perfect but I think it's as good as it'll get for a while, so... enjoy :)

Okay, so he still wasn’t completely healed.

Dick was trying to hide it. He had an idea of what would happen if he let on how much his side hurt, and it was definitely something he wanted to avoid. It wasn’t a big deal, he’d be fine. The wound was already pretty much closed up, thanks to his faster healing rates- but the traces of electrum in his body couldn’t help with the sharp ache thrumming in his side.

That was probably making it worse, honestly. He hadn’t really taken time to inspect the knife, but if he had, he was sure that it would be a knife meant to kill Talons. Which meant that whatever it was coated with was designed to react badly with electrum. He doubted he had enough electrum in him to die from it, but it still hurt.

He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, sighing. He’d made his way to the kitchen when Batman had dismissed them from the meeting. Not for any reason in particular, he’d just been looking for a place without any people in it so that he could rest. He knew he’d have to get up soon- this was a public space, after all- but he was exhausted. He’d earned a minute of resting his eyes before he got up again.

The others had accepted him as part of the group now. Or at least, they weren’t being outwardly suspicious. They seemed kind of surprised when he’d walked into the room, and as the meeting went on and Batman described the plan, someone would occasionally shoot him a hard-to-decipher glance. But all in all, they were going with the flow. The perks of having Batman vouching for you, he supposed. He should probably feel happy about it.

Still, he almost preferred the alternative- that people were glaring at him and asking why they should trust him. At least then, he’d know what was going on. He’d understand. He had undermined their trust, tried to kill their leader, so why would they trust him? Well, actually, he knew why- it was because of Artemis. He’d taken that knife for her.

Still, that didn’t mean they should trust him. It was a horrible idea. It was a wonder none of them had died in the field yet, if they always acted like this.

“Um,” a voice said.

His eyes snapped open, and he pushed himself upright, suddenly tense. He hadn’t even heard anybody approach, how-

“Are you okay?”

Oh. It was just Artemis. He forced himself to relax out of a fighting position. That was the last thing he needed to do, attack someone who was trying to help him. Well, attack her again.

“I’m fine,” he said. She didn’t look like she believed him. “I thought you’d have gone home to rest,” he said, hoping to distract her.

“Yeah, well,” she said. “I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Oh.” his spirit sank. He didn’t know what this was about, but he doubted it would be good.

“Why’d you take that knife for me?” There, straight to the point. She was a blunt person, he realized. He liked that about her. There were no guessing games.

“I don’t kill people that aren’t my assignment,” he said.

“So? You weren’t the one trying to kill me,” she said. “It wouldn’t have been your fault.”

“That’s not the point,” he said. “I didn’t want you to die.”

“You kill people all the time,” she said.

“That doesn’t mean I like it.”

Artemis studied him, her arms crossed. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but he felt like he was being evaluated for a test he hadn’t known he was taking. Like she was ringing up all his good person/bad person points in her mind to decide whether to believe him. After what seemed like hours, but was probably only a couple seconds, she uncrossed her arms and sighed, looking down. A beat passed before she looked up at him and broke the silence.

“It’s not… easy for me to trust people,” Artemis said. “Especially people who kill people.”

“Most people would agree with you on that,” he said, his lips twitching upward.

“Shut up and let me finish.”

“Sorry.”

Artemis paused before continuing.

“People in my family have made a lot of bad decisions. I guess I figured you were like them- like, you didn’t care about anyone else, or you chose to do that or something.”

“And you betrayed us-” Talon flicked his eyes down to the floor- “But then you saved my life. And I guess what I’m trying to say is… sorry. For misjudging you.”

She wasn’t looking him in the eyes now, instead staring at the cabinets a little bit to his right. Dick could tell she was making an effort not to fiddle with her hands. They twitched at her side, but she didn’t move them. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again.

“For what it’s worth,” he said softly, “You shouldn’t be apologizing. I don’t think that knife was for you.”

“It was aimed straight at me.”

“I know. But the guy who threw it… his name is William Cobb. He’s not that sloppy. If he didn’t want me to see him throw it, I wouldn’t have.” he paused. “I think it was more of a test.”

“For you? To see which side you were on?”

“Yeah. If I was really loyal to the Court I would have kept trying to kill Batman. It wouldn’t have mattered if you’d died. Actually, it probably would’ve been good, since now you know the Court exists.”

“And if you were loyal to us,” Artemis said, “You’d be at least badly injured. Two birds, one stone.”

“Right.”

They sat in silence, both lost in thought. Artemis seemed to be digesting the information. Dick tried to ignore her glances in favor of surreptitiously adjusting his stance so that his side wouldn’t hurt as much. Telling her his suspicions about the knife didn’t mean he was about to let on how much pain he was in. It wasn’t even a lot anymore. It was enough to be distracting, but he could move around fine.

“Hey, have you ever watched the Office?”

Dick glanced back up at Artemis, confused. “What?”

“I mean, do you watch TV?”

He stared at her as if she was a jigsaw puzzle that was missing a piece. “Uh… no?”

“You should watch some with me.”

He blinked. “Right now?”

“Do you have any better ideas? It’s either this or sit around and wait while our nerves fray.”

Dick stared at her.

Yesterday afternoon, when he’d snuck into the kitchen to get himself food, he’d seen her with the others, in front of the TV. They’d been joking around with each other, loose and relaxed. If he hadn’t seen it, he would never have guessed that they’d been fighting just half an hour ago. A pretty random memory. It struck him as important all of a sudden.

Artemis watched him, waiting for his answer.

“Uh, sure,” he said, trying to sound casual. “I guess.”

From the look on Artemis’s face, he didn’t do a great job of it. 

He found he didn’t really care as much as he thought he would.

…

Kaldur’ahm had seen many things in his time on the surface.

When he’d been young, growing up in Atlantis, he’d often dream of coming to the surface. A place where fire shone in the sky and people were spread among so many different places that they had different languages depending where you were. It sounded like something strange and unreal taken out of a story- a place where anything was possible.

When he’d first come to the surface, that had been an exciting prospect, a promise of adventure. But now that he’d seen just what was possible, he missed the comfort and familiarity of his home in Shayeris. There were still horrible things there, too, but they were familiar, and that took the edge off.

He’d wanted to go back to Atlantis when Batman had told the team to get some rest, but he knew he couldn’t. Their mission was only in a few short hours, and he needed to prepare himself. If he went home to Shayeris, his parents would want to talk to him, see how he’d been. He might have liked to do that, but he needed rest for the mission ahead. Especially since he’d been up last night for a mission as well.

Although, he may not be better off avoiding conversation here, either, he thought to himself as he noted M’gann hovering nearby him. They were both in the library at present moment, and she watched him from a couple bookcases away. He turned to her, raising his eyebrows.

“Are you okay?” M’gann asked. “I know I’m not supposed to pry, and I wasn’t trying to, I just... I could really feel the emotions coming off of you.”

“I am fine,” Kaldur said. “Just tired.”

M’gann moved closer to him. “But it’s more than that, isn’t it,” she said softly.

He didn’t respond. He was about to tell her that he was fine and she should get some rest, when she spoke up again.

“I feel it too, you know.” she hesitated. “It’s not just your emotions.”

“What do you mean?”

M’gann opened her mouth, then closed it. She was quiet for a second, staring at the bookshelves as she twisted her hair around in her fingers.

“I guess…” she started off slowly. “This whole thing of being a hero… people count on you. Because it’s your job to help people.” she shifted her weight, glancing back to him for confirmation.

“It’s scary when you think about what happens if you fail. Not just for us, but for the people who were counting on us. If we fail and they get hurt, that’s on us.”

Kaldur reached out and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “That’s why we are a team. No one bears the burden alone. We do all we can to help each other, as well as other people.”

M’gann looked back at him, a soft smile on her face. “Yeah,” she said. “Don’t you forget that either.”

He was caught off guard a second, his eyes widened. But then he smiled back at her.

“I’ll try not to,” he said.

“Good.”

Kaldur made as if to leave. 

“Wait!”

He paused, and turned back to her.

“The main reason I came in here in the first place was to invite you to the living room,” she said. “The others are watching TV.”

“Aren’t they supposed to be resting?”

“Ask Artemis and Talon. They started it.”

Kaldur smiled then, a genuine smile.

“Then I guess we should go and help educate him on pop culture.”

“Yeah,” M’gann said. “Artemis and Wally can’t hog all the confusing explanations.”

He followed M’gann out of the library. A weight was lifted off of his shoulders and he couldn’t help but smile. A part of him would always be on Atlantis, but in that moment, he was confident in where he was meant to be- here, on the surface, with his friends, working to restore justice to the world. No matter how difficult it might be.

...

Bruce pulled into the cave and climbed out of his Batmobile, intent on getting straight to work. He might have told the team to get some rest, but he still had plenty to do, and first on the list was the USB drive that Miss Martian had found. He hadn’t gotten a chance to look at it before now; with Dick’s injury and their planning session it had fallen to the wayside. Still, he was nothing if not thorough.

There was a chink in that plan, though. Said chink was standing in the middle of the Cave, holding a feather duster and looking severely unimpressed.

“I do hope you’ve come here to rest and not to continue working yourself to an early grave,” Alfred said.

Bruce headed past him and towards the computer. “I’ve got a couple loose ends I need tied up,” he said, booting up the computer.

“Of course you do, sir,” Alfred said. “Justice never sleeps, so god forbid you do.”

“A lot happened on the mission last night,” Bruce said. “The Talon- his name is Dick- he was stabbed. We had to take him back to the mountain for medical care.”

He paused and plugged in the USB before he continued. “They know he’s on our side now. He’ll need protecting.”

“And you’re certain he’s on your side?” Alfred said.

_ “Yes,” _ Bruce said, a little more forcefully than he’d intended. He stopped, then proceeded more calmly. “I’m sure of it now. He’s a victim in all this. He didn’t have any say over what he was doing.”

Alfred regarded him for a moment. Bruce kept his eyes trained on the screen, waiting for it to load.

“So what will you do about it now?”

“I’ve got to find out what information is being stored on this drive,” Bruce said. “We found it at their storage facilities. It could have important information regarding the case.”

“And the young heroes?”

“I told the team to get some rest,” Bruce said. “They were up last night for the mission, and we’re going on another one tonight. They’ll need it.”

“I’m sure they will,” Alfred said. “Unlike you, sir, who are an immortal being capable of replenishing your energy reserves at will, and thus has no need for such trivial things as sleep.”

Bruce sighed. “I doubt I’ll be able to sleep until this case is finished,” he said.

“And I doubt you’ll be able to finish this case without sleep!” Alfred said. “Master Bruce, with all due respect, you will be no help to anyone dead. Least of all the assassin child.”

“His name is Dick,” Bruce said. “And who said anything about him?”

Alfred leveled him with his signature deadpan stare. Bruce stared back, a silent challenge. Alfred sighed, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer.

“You have a great compassion,” he said. “It’s one of your greatest strengths. You want to help people. But it can also be one of your biggest downfalls. Sometimes you need to help yourself before you’re in any state to help others.”

“Alfred, tell me you don’t want to help him,” Bruce demanded. “He’s so young-” he cut himself off.

“Of course I want to help him,” Alfred said. “What happened to him is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone, least of all an eight year old boy.”

Bruce turned back to the monitor, studying the information laid out in front of him.

“Give me five more minutes,” he said. “After that I’ll try to rest.”

“Very good, sir,” Alfred said. His voice was pleased bordering on smug. Bruce chose to ignore it in favor of studying the screen. If he only had five minutes, he might as well make them count.

…

_ “Everyone online?” _

A chorus of assent drifted through the mindlink. Dick still wasn’t used to the mindlink, the way they all seemed to blend together and catch glimpses of each other inside their heads. It was strange and foreign, like he was trespassing somewhere private, or a church of some religion he knew nothing about: everyone knew the motions and seemed comfortable with laying themselves out but him.

Still, in a way it was comforting, especially now when he was about to do one of the most dangerous things he’d ever done (which was saying something, because he’d been doing dangerous things as long as he could remember). He couldn’t see the others; they were still in the bioship, which was hovering above the building in camouflage mode. If he squinted he could make it out, but that was only because he already knew it was there. It blended almost perfectly against the cloudy Gotham sky. The dark also helped to hide the warped silhouette. 

They wouldn’t be caught.

His armor was a familiar weight on his shoulders. He’d checked and rechecked his knives, making sure they were in top condition. Everything was going totally according to plan, and now there was nothing stopping him from walking straight into the Court.

He took a deep breath, staring at the doors from his perch in a shadowed window across the street.

_ “Everything’s going according to plan. It’s going to be fine.” _ Wally’s voice filtered through his head. With the words, Dick caught a sense of the emotion behind them- comforting and encouraging. He loosened some of the tension from his body.

_ “I know that,” _ he thought back. With his words, he tried to convey what he really meant:  _ thank you. I needed that. I can do this. _

He leapt down from the window, landing silent as a cat on the ground, and moved forwards before he could start thinking about what he was doing again. There were no cars in the street. The night was silent and barren.

He pushed open the doors.

There was no one in the main lobby. Not surprising. There rarely was. He moved across the room silently. He was being watched and he knew it, but he pretended he didn’t notice. He opened a second door at the back of the room. On the other side was a stairwell. He moved down the steps, reaching the bottom all too soon for his liking. 

He stepped into the room and his eyes widened. A familiar bulky body was lounging against the wall, looking slightly bored yet amused.

“Gray Son,” Cobb said. “Are you really this incompetent, to come back here?”

Dick forced himself not to tense up and fought down the emotion on his face. “Hello to you too,” he said.

“You’ve signed your own death warrant,” Cobb mused, not responding. “You’re a traitor, you failed to kill your assignment, and you sacrificed yourself to let the girl go free.”

His eyes focused in on Dick again. “But I know you are smart.”

Dick didn’t say anything. His own tension was echoed by the tension running through the mindlink. Had he been found out already?

“You have a reason for coming here,” Cobb continued. “Are you foolish enough to think that you could deal the Court a blow?”

“No,” he said.  _ Now or never. _ “I have information.”

Cobb studied him. “What kind of information?”

“Important information,” Dick said. “About the Justice League and their sidekicks. The Court will want to hear it.”

Cobb chuckled. The sound wasn’t warm, and again Dick had to remember not to tense up. “So you’ve come to bargain? An overlooking of fault for what you’ve learned while in cohorts with the enemy?”

“It’s very valuable information,” Dick said. “And sensitive. The Court would be... unwise not to hear it.”

“And I suppose you want me to tell them you want an audience?”

“You  _ are _ the highest ranking Talon,” Dick said. “You’re the only one with enough jurisdiction.”

Cobb studied him for a moment, then drew out a knife. The blade was long and sharp. Dick tried not to show his apprehension. With the hand holding the knife, Cobb gestured towards the door behind him, that lead deeper into the base.

“You go first,” he said. “I’ll follow behind you with this knife. And if I begin to suspect this is a trick…” he made a violent gesture and Dick winced internally.

“Don’t worry,” he said, moving towards the door. “I wouldn’t trick you.” Inside, his nerves felt frayed, but he made sure that it didn’t translate to the outside so his voice didn’t shake as he spoke.

“I’m not that stupid.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> couple notes:  
> \- the team fell asleep in front of the TV, don't worry. I know in some stories superheroes can go for like a week without sleep, but I'm always over here like... sleep is a basic human need... you're going to slip up on your missions and die...  
> \- I had to rewrite from scratch the scene with Kaldur and M'gann because the first one made Kaldur way too open. He hides his emotions so much someone help him  
> \- Dick will be fine. At least, in that he's right that he won't die from his wound. He just needs like... painkillers or something but he'll probably never get them because he's too stubborn to say when he's hurting.  
> \- Bruce also actually slept (to his own chagrin.) don't worry bout him
> 
> If you liked it please comment. All of the comments I get are so helpful in motivating me to actually finish this story. plus, I'll respond back excitedly :)  
> next up: the chapter where shit goes down part 2


	7. Hope or Despair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys thanks for being so patient with me life's been a bit of *yells in life's direction* a FUCKING BITCH RECENTLY but it's ok! I'm just really busy, plus this chapter wasn't cooperating with me at all. After thanksgiving I think things'll cool down a little. We'll see.  
> As always, thank you to the people who commented last chapter! You guys are so nice and I really appreciate it :) it's so much more gratifying to write when you know someone really likes the story.  
> There are still things I'm not sure about in this chapter, but I figure you guys have waited long enough. so this is 'the chapter where shit goes down, part 2.' ;)

Artemis hated waiting.

She’d been waiting most of her life- waiting for her mom to get out of jail, waiting for her dad to leave her alone, waiting for her sister to come back. When she’d become a superhero, she’d put all that behind her. She was done waiting. She was going to take back her life.

Of course, superheroes had to wait too. She’d never admit it (if she did, she wouldn’t get to tease Wally about his own impatience) but it was her least favorite part of the job. She was on edge and bored at the same time. Something could kill her at any moment, but it probably wouldn’t.

That was her current situation, crouched in a hallway off of the giant courtroom where Talon was standing trial. Well, stalling was more like it. She could hear his voice filtering from the room: “I understand. I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important...”

The hall she was in reminded her a little of a theater, in that there were stone arches all along the side of the hall that looked down onto the room. Curtains that hung from the arches were hiding her and her group- Batman and Kid Flash, respectively- from view. She pulled back a corner of one of the curtains as silently as she could.

The courtroom looked pretty similar to the one Artemis had scoped out with Conner earlier. It was a mix of a theater, courtroom, and coliseum. She could see curtain-covered stone arcs like the one she was peeking through on the other side of the room. Kaldur and his group would be getting into position behind those curtains, although she couldn’t see them. From the hallway she was in, a short stairway lead down to the seating area, which was a large raised platform with tiered seats, presumably so that the person standing all the way down on the floor could see the people in them and be intimidated. It was tall enough that it would be hard to climb up, if it weren’t for the stairs that hugged the wall.

The biggest difference was that this courtroom had people in the seats. It wasn’t full by a long shot, but just the small amount of people that were there was enough to completely change the atmosphere of the room. Probably the white masks they all wore had something to do with it. The masks covered their entire faces, leaving them expressionless and cold as they looked down on Talon. All the way down on the floor with the Owls looming over him, he seemed small in a way he usually didn’t. It brought to mind the image of a lone warrior facing off against some kind of many-headed beast.

_“We’re in position,”_ Kaldur’s voice said through the mindlink, making Artemis start. To cover up her surprise, she quickly unfolded her bow and notched an arrow, aiming it through the crack in the curtain. Beside her, she could sense Wally and Batman tensing up, ready for a fight.

_ “We’re ready too,” _ she thought.  _ “Let’s go.” _

“Get to the point, Gray Son,” one of the Owls said. Artemis couldn’t tell which.

Talon hesitated, but then plowed forwards.

“Alright, so this is actually an attack.”

Artemis released her hold on her bowstrings, and the arrow went flying through the air, hitting its mark perfectly right in front of the front row of Owls. Gas hissed out from where it had struck, masking the Owls’ vision, if only for a moment.

She ran forward, leaping down the stairs to block off the right-side exit. On the other side of the room, Kaldur, M’gann, and Conner appeared at the other entrance. Talon appeared at the front, having climbed up the dias to block off escape. Meanwhile, Batman was crouched at the top of the seating, effectively surrounding the Owls.

The gas cleared.

The Owls were on their feet. Even though Artemis couldn’t see their faces, their body language screamed  _ shock. _

“Y’know, for people who brag about seeing everything coming so much, you sure seem surprised,” Talon said, his voice echoing in the silence. “What, are you scared?”

One of the Owls- a tall woman with platinum blonde hair- straightened up. Even though she was surrounded, she managed to look imperious, almost condescending. “Please,” she said. “You’re talking about things you don’t understand. Maybe wait and learn before acting so confident, hm?”

Talon tensed almost imperceptibly. If Artemis hadn’t been trained for this kind of thing since she was little, she might not have seen it. But she did, and she knew what it meant. He’d noticed something.

Artemis saw the first body on the other side first. A shadow, moving in the curtains hung on the balcony, that materialized into the shape of a person. That person leapt from the balcony and landed silently in front of Kaldur’s group- right at the same time a Talon landed in front of her. Their entire face was covered with a black and gold mask.  Artemis couldn’t see any defining features about them, except that they were big. Bigger than her, definitely.

Alright. That was fine. She’d learned plenty from Black Canary about defeating opponents that were bigger than her. This wasn’t a problem.

Unless, of course, she had to fight off more than one.

Her heart sank as she watched Talons drop from the ceiling like flies, cutting them off from getting to the Owls. The Talons drew their knives, shifting into fighting stances. Nobody said a word, and for a moment, everyone in the room was frozen with anticipation. Then an Owl spoke.

“Take them.”

...

Everyone seemed to lunge forwards and meet each other at the same time.

Even though he was used to fast fights, he was usually only fighting one other person. Dick couldn’t keep track of all sides of the room at once. Instead, he focused in on one Talon near him that was heading towards M’gann, who was already occupied with other opponents. He leaped over the rows of seats dividing them and shoved into the Talon from behind.

The Talon stumbled, regained his footing and spun around to stab him. Dick stepped back, grabbed his wrist, pulled him forward. He tumbled over the row of chairs. Dick jumped after him and drove a knife through his weapon hand in one fell swoop.

“Nicely done,” said a voice.

Dick looked up to see Cobb standing in an aisle only a few feet away from him.

“You were always one of the best fighters,” he said. “You could have beaten me one day, with enough training.” He looked genuinely disappointed, which made Dick prickle uncomfortably.

“I suppose I’ll have to kill you now,” Cobb said, shifting into a fighting stance. “Not that I want to, but I know my place.”

“Oh, spare me,” Dick said, raising his knife in one hand.

He attacked. Cobb grabbed his wrist, pushed it to the side. Dick twisted with the push. Spun around, swung his forearm up to block Cobb’s knife- just in time. The knife glanced off of his armor. He brought his knife down towards Cobb’s hand. Cobb twisted his hand and pushed Dick’s wrist to the outside.

The rhythm was familiar. Not soothing, but familiar. It almost felt like he was back in the training room, pushing himself harder and harder so he could finally beat Cobb. He’d never been able to do it. At the end, when he was on the floor gasping for breath, Cobb would wait for him to catch his breath, then pull him up and say, “Again.” And it would start all over.

He needed to stop thinking about that now. This was no training fight. If he made a slip up- which he would, and soon- there wouldn’t be an again. He was barely keeping up as it was, his muscles burning from exertion. He barely had enough time to breathe between each attack.

Cobb punched at him. Before his fist made impact, Dick stepped to the side and grabbed his wrist. He twisted Cobb’s arm, pulling it forward with the momentum. Cobb stumbled, but then grabbed onto Dick’s outstretched arm and twisted around, swinging Dick from his feet.

For a moment, he was suspended in the air, and a shock of fear jolted through him- but before he could panic, he hit the ground, tucking and rolling on instinct. He pushed himself up, though his muscles burned in protest, and turned around to look up. He’d been kicked back down to the floor. Above him, the fight raged on, the sounds of clanking and grunting drifting down to him. And Cobb- Cobb stared down at him, standing on the edge of the platform. As Dick watched, he jumped down, landing a little ways away from Dick. He straightened, not moving closer, but not dropping his knives, either.

“You can’t win this fight,” Cobb said. His voice was soft, pitying. “You know that.”

Dick glared at him, breathing heavily. His muscles burned, and he wanted nothing more than to collapse. Cobb was right- he wouldn’t win.

“Fighting the Court is an impossible task,” Cobb continued, stepping closer. “Siding with these ‘heroes,’ will bring you nothing but pain.”

Dick took a step back as Cobb took another step forwards. A flicker of annoyance crossed Cobb’s face, but it only lasted a second before his face was nothing but soft concern again.

“You still have a choice. You can take the easy way out. Stop fighting, and I will vouch for you.”

Dick’s eyes stung with tears. He wasn’t even sure why he felt like crying, but he took a shaky breath and blinked them away.  _ If you cry now, you’ll never live it down, _ he told himself.

“You don’t get it at all, do you,” he told Cobb. His voice didn’t wobble. “There is no easy choice anymore.”

Cobb stared at him, seemingly incredulous. Dick shifted the weight of his knife in his hands, preparing for a fight as subtly as he could. Cobb noticed the action, though, and recovered himself.

“I give you every chance to make the right choice, and every time you brush me off,” he said. He narrowed his eyes and lifted his knives. “It seems you are truly beyond saving.”

“By you, maybe.”

Cobb attacked again, stepping forwards and sweeping his arm down to hit Dick in the side. A flash of pain burst from his wound, and he fell to the ground. He rolled with the impact. As much as he wanted to lie there gasping for breath, that would mean certain death. Instead, he pulled himself up and turned just in time to bring his arms up in front of him as he saw Cobb attacking again and he was knocked off his feet.

He couldn’t get up. He was too tired, and everything hurt, and he had to take a second just to take a breath before he got up- but he didn’t have time for that. Cobb’s foot pressed against his chest, sending a flare of pain from his side, and he couldn’t breathe. He tried pushing the leg away, gasping desperately for breath, but he couldn’t do it. Distantly, Cobb was saying something, but he couldn’t focus long enough to know what. Everything hurt. He couldn’t breathe. Cobb’s image standing above him seemed to sway and blur. Distantly, Dick realized that wasn’t good. Probably he should… do something about that.

That was his last thought before he fell into blackness.

…

They had been thrown pretty unceremoniously into a cage. It sat in the middle of the courtroom floor. Everyone else had left, except for the creepy dude. Cobb. Whatever his name was. He didn’t look like he wanted to talk, though. He leaned against the wall, surveying them coolly.

Talon was also nowhere to be found. Conner wanted to ask the others where he’d gone, but he doubted talking would be appreciated by their guard, and the mindlink was down, thanks to a metal circle around M’gann’s neck.

They were all wearing inhibitor collars, except for Artemis and Batman. Conner hated the feel of it around his neck, hated how vulnerable he felt without his powers. Whatever happened next probably wouldn’t turn in his favor until he got that thing off his neck.

“Hey, Cobb!” Wally called to the guard, snapping Conner out of his thoughts. “Wanna tell us where our friend is?”

Cobb didn’t respond right away. He looked at Wally condescendingly for a second, as if deciding whether or not to deign to speak with him.

“It’s of no concern to you,” he finally said. “You’ll be dead before he is.”

“You’re going to  _ kill _ him?” M’gann burst out.

“Why so surprised?”

M’gann opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She seemed to be at a loss for words. She snapped her mouth shut and gave him a piercing glare. He looked amused.

“If it’s of any condolence, he won’t be dead forever,” Cobb said.

The team glanced around at each other. Standing at the back of the cage, Batman’s eyes narrowed like he was calculating something. Conner met M’gann’s eyes, his confusion mirrored in hers. It was Artemis who spoke up first.

“Uh, last I checked, that’s kinda how death  _ works. _ ”

“No,” Cobb said. “He will be processed. They will kill him, inject him with a serum, and then bring him back to life. After that, his loyalties will never sway again.”

“Because he’ll be traumatized?” Conner said. “Great plan.”

“No,” Cobb said again. He looked like he was enjoying watching their reactions. “Because he’ll be processed. Any Talon who goes through that process loses the ability to think for themselves. They only do what the Court of Owls will tell them to do.”

“So you’re turning him into a zombie,” Wally said incredulously.

“That’s the price he pays for disobedience,” Cobb said.

The team glanced at each other again. Even without the mindlink, Conner could tell that they were all on the same page.

_ We have to get out of this cage. _

...

Dick came to slowly.

The first thing he noticed was that he was moving. Well, he wasn’t moving himself. But he could feel the jostling rhythm of someone walking. He was being carried over someone’s shoulder, he realized. That was about as far as his deduction skills could take him. For some reason, he couldn’t pull his thoughts together. His whole mind felt fuzzy, like he was underwater or something, and he was tired.

Still, now that he’d felt the jostling, he couldn’t ignore it and go back to sleep. Reluctantly, he pried open his eyes.

All he could see was the back of the person carrying him as he bumped back and forth. He turned his head to the side. That small action took a lot more effort than he was comfortable with, and he let out an involuntary groan. His head felt like some invisible pressure was bearing down on it. Probably had something to do with him being upside down.

“Oh, are you awake now?” A voice said. The body carrying him rumbled with the vibrations. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

“What’s…” he mumbled. He didn’t have enough energy to finish his thought.

“Your friends have been captured,” the voice said. “They’ll be killed by a more competent Talon. In the meanwhile, you’ll be processed.”

That woke him up some more. His brain started moving a bit faster. The plan… the fight… and then he’d blacked out. He’d been captured. He was being processed.

The shoulder beneath him shifted, and he startled. He was weightless in the air for a split- second, but before he knew what was happening, he hit the ground. It was cold concrete, and his shoulder throbbed where he’d taken the brunt of the impact. The voice was talking again. He tried to push himself up, but everything seemed to tilt and sway around him. A harsh metal clang sounded, and then there was silence.

He sat there breathing for a couple seconds. Slowly, the dizziness subsided, and he looked around.

He was in a room. There wasn’t much else to say about it. It wasn’t particularly big, more like a large walk-in closet. Everything seemed to be made of concrete. A lightbulb buzzed softly above him, the only source of light. In front of him was a door made of metal. The only notable thing about the room was how cold it was.

It was freezing. He could see his breath in puffs of fog in front of him. The cold sat heavy over the whole room like a blanket, worming its way into even the tiniest cracks in his armor: underneath his shoulder guards, inside his boots, under his neckband. His breath was sharp in his lungs.

He felt a sinking feeling in his chest. This was actually happening. He was about to be processed.

“Okay, don’t panic,” he said to himself out loud, rubbing his arms. Slowly, he stood up and stepped towards the door. He ran his fingers over the edge, looking for some way out. Never mind that it would be a huge oversight to build in a way to open the door from the inside. He couldn’t think like that.

There was no way to open the door. At least, not from what he could see. He turned around, staring at the walls for any cracks, hoping that he’d missed something before, something that might help him escape. There wasn’t one. The room was empty and barren. It almost seemed to be taunting him.

He turned back to the door. It stared back at him. There was nothing he could do. He had lost. The team was captured. Help wasn’t coming. They were all going to die. He was going to die.

“LET ME OUT!” He hit the door as hard as he could, banging against it in a sudden surge of rage. “LET ME OUT, LET ME OUT-” He hit the door so hard that his hand spasmed, and he yanked it back. He shook it out, then pulled out a knife and stabbed at the door.

It scratched against the surface harmlessly. Dick made a noise of frustration and jabbed at the door again. He hit it over and over, but the blade never did more than scratch the surface.

As the knife came down again and met the door, his hand slipped. A searing pain blazed across his palm, and he dropped the knife with a gasp. He examined his hand: the knife had sliced through his glove and made a cut on his palm. As he watched, blood welled up from the cut. He pressed his other palm against it, which helped with the pain.

Dick looked back at the door. He could see the scratches of the knife, a frenzied looking record of his attempted escape for some future historian to find. Maybe. In the far future.

If the Court was ever defeated. And then if someone bothered to look around, and then they might have a small idea what had happened to him. They wouldn’t know his name, or his story. They would just know he wasn’t able to escape.

He blinked. His eyes stung hot with tears, and he brought up his hand to wipe them away. But as soon as he did, new tears welled up in their place.

He couldn’t escape.

He was going to die.

No one would ever know what had happened to him.

It was then that he really started crying. A sob burst out of him, and the hot tears spilled over his cheeks. He dropped to his knees, leaning himself against the wall. The sounds of his sobs punctuated the silent room.

He pulled his knees up to his chest, shivering from the cold. He buried his face into his knees and shook with sobs.

He was going to die.

He couldn’t do anything about it.

No one was coming to help him.

He was scared.

He was powerless.

He was alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >: )
> 
> Couple notes:  
> \- I hope that was all... coherent? Please tell me if you were confused because I honestly couldn't tell if like, the layout of the courtroom or the choreography of the fight scenes made sense. I don't have a beta reader or anyone else to share this with, so I just kinda did my best to describe it as clearly as possible.  
> \- The whole thing about Artemis hating waiting is a reference to the tie-in comics, which, if you haven't read them you really should! there's this whole movement and stuff going on right now to get the tie-in comics renewed along with the show, so now's a great time to buy them. join in on the hype.  
> \- The Owl that spoke was Maria Powers. I keep on writing scenes for her like dialogue and backstory and stuff but it never makes the final cut. But yeah. That was her.  
> \- The chapter title is from the same quote as the main title of the fic. "Is the soul a source of hope or despair?" I think it fits with this chapter pretty well. I've thought wayyy too much about it, actually, but if I wrote it all out here then it would get way too long.
> 
> Anyway I'm gonna wrap up cuz this is already long but please comment, it sustains me, tell me what you liked, what you noticed, really anything. I'm really friendly and if you do comment then I will love you forever :)


	8. In Obscurity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi
> 
> I have no excuses
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented last chapter, as always. And sorry to everyone who said something along the lines of 'I can't wait to read the next chapter.' I thought of you very often while continuing to stare at the chapter in progress, no closer to finishing.  
> anyway I hope yall like it. this one's for you :)

_ Tshing. _

_ Tshing. _

_ Tshing. _

Artemis glared over at Cobb. He was sharpening his knives, and the rhythmic metal-on-metal scrape was getting annoying. It was the only sound being made at the moment- Cobb’s willingness to talk had died out after he’d explained just how doomed they all were.

After hearing what was going to happen, she was even more determined than before to break out. When he’d told them what was going to happen to Talon… well. She didn’t consider herself quick to care about people, but hearing that he was going to be killed had felt like a burning slap across the cheek even more than hearing that she and the others were also going to die. Maybe she was just used to people issuing death threats to the team. Or maybe it was more than that. 

Okay, definitely there was more than that.

Talon’s position was achingly familiar to her. Like it or not, she knew what it was like to be manipulated and blackmailed into doing things she didn’t want to do, only to have the only people she could rely on turn around and stab her in the back as soon as she slipped up even a little. Talon was a kid, plus he was actually pretty cool. Before she’d made the effort to talk to him, it was easy to see him as a villain, but now he was just a person. He didn’t deserve any of this.

Still, righteous anger or whatever it was didn’t help with actually coming up with an escape plan. She didn’t doubt that they could somehow bust out of the cage if they were alone- it wasn’t that secure- but Cobb didn’t seem like he was planning on leaving anytime soon. Which brought them back to square one.

_ Tshing. _

_ Tshing. _

_ Tshing. _

She had the strong urge to somehow grab the knife from him and throw it into the wall so hard it quivered. Before she could do anything (not that she  _ could _ do anything), Wally spoke up.

“So, your friends don’t seem to be in any hurry to kill us,” he said. He almost managed to make it seem light and conversational, but was given away by the tension in his crossed arms. Cobb didn’t look up or stop what he was doing to respond.

“Are you in a hurry to die?”

“No, just curious. I was under the impression that we’d be dead sooner rather than later.”

Cobb shot Wally an annoyed glance. “I could speed up the process, if you wish.”

“If you could, why haven’t you?” M’gann asked. She was glaring at him in a way Artemis had never seen before.

“I pledge loyalty to the Court,” Cobb said. “Just like any good Talon.”

“Not every good Talon,” Conner said.

“Yes, every good Talon,” Cobb snapped. “If you’re referring to the traitor- you don’t know what being a good Talon is.”

“You know him.” Batman said. Artemis jumped a little- she had almost forgotten he was there. He’d spent his time up until this point lurking in the corner like a shadow, watching the room with narrowed eyes. Now he moved forwards into the middle of the cell.

“I trained him.” Cobb said. “Trained him to be better than this, definitely.” His face was blank, but his voice had an edge to it. He was sharpening his knife with a kind of intensity he hadn't been before.

“You cared about him,” Artemis realized. “And then he betrayed your trust. That must have stung.”

Cobb stalked forwards, jabbing his knife in her direction. “He’ll get what is coming to him, just like all of you will. Soon enough-”

It happened fast enough that she almost missed it. Batman moved forwards in one fluid motion, reaching through the bars and grabbing Cobb's arm. Cobb stiffened, then slumped to the floor.

Batman withdrew his arm, and Artemis caught the glint of a small syringe.

“Did you just  _ kill _ him?” Wally blurted, eyes wide.

“No,” Batman said, turning towards the cage’s locked door. “I gave him an extremely small dosage. He’ll only be out for a minute.”

“Wait, but-”

The door clicked open. Batman turned and glared at them. Any protest Artemis might have had died in her throat.

“You need to find anything you can on the Court. The Owls are probably gone by now, but there could be something they left behind. That’s priority one.”

“But what about-”

“I’ll find Talon,” Batman said, turning away.

…

Bruce worked best when he knew things.

_ Most people do, Sir, _ Alfred would say sardonically. But that wasn’t what Bruce meant. Most people knew how to get basic information to get basic tasks done, things like applying for jobs or balancing a checkbook. Bruce took  _ knowing _ to the next level, made it almost an art form, a delicate mixture of holding his cards to his chest while coaxing everything around him to show him theirs.

So yes, Bruce knew that Cobb wouldn’t die. And he knew how to find Dick. Hopefully. He had some idea, at least, from the information that he’d found on the USB drive that Miss Martian had found, and from the electrum sample Kid Flash had given him. He’d been able to deduce a way to render Talons unconscious with the sample he’d gotten, but he’d used up what little he had on Cobb. He would need to find more electrum if he wanted to make more. Given what he knew about processing, he probably did. Something to add to his list.

Right now, though, his main concern was finding Dick. He was making his way down the building’s levels as fast as he could, even with the bone-deep ache of exhaustion seeping through him like poison. If Alfred were here, he’d raise an eyebrow pointedly. But Bruce kept moving. He’d made a promise to Dick that he would protect him, and he’d be damned if he ever broke his promises.

Dick already had so many people in his life that had failed him. Bruce didn’t want to add himself to the list.

The information he’d gotten in the USB drive from before had been notes detailing the process of, well… processing. He hadn’t known what that had meant at the time, but had memorized the information anyway. Now that he knew Dick was being processed, thanks to Cobb’s bragging session, he was able to do something about it.

Processing took place somewhere cold. Apparently the body had to be chilled for it to work, or something like that. They even made the victim wait somewhere cold beforehand, so as to reduce the risk of corruption. The filters in his cowl could tell him where the coldest place in the building was. That was the best bet he had towards finding Dick.

He was nearing the coldest area of the building. He could feel it on his skin, even though he was warm from exercise. Dick had to be near here.

As he ran down the hallway, he heard a muffled noise, almost like a gasp. He slowed.  _ What was… _

He listened hard for a couple seconds. Nothing. He was about to dismiss it as his imagination when he heard it again- a muffled, distressed noise, coming from behind one of the doors. He turned towards the metal door closest to him and put his ear up to it.

Yes, it was definitely this door. On the other side, someone was crying. And if he were to think about people in the Court who had good reason to cry right now…

The key was hanging next to the door. Bruce snatched it off of its hook and quickly unlocked the door. He pulled it open and stepped inside.

Dick was curled up against the wall to his right. On seeing Bruce, he gasped and shot to his feet.

Bruce took in his appearance. His cheeks were streaked with tears, and he was cradling one of his palms with the other hand. He stared at Bruce like he might be a mirage.

“Are you okay?” Bruce asked. His voice was softer than his usual growl.

Dick threw himself at Bruce, his arms wrapping around Bruce’s middle and squeezing hard like he might disappear. Bruce tensed up in shock, but quickly forced himself to relax and wrapped his arms around the smaller figure. Dick obviously needed comfort right now. Normally, Bruce would resist unnecessary delays in enemy territory, but this wasn’t an ordinary situation. Besides. They could spare a minute.

He pulled Dick close and pretended he didn’t notice his shaking. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’re okay.”

After a couple seconds, Dick broke away, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t- sorry,” he muttered, looking away and wiping at his eyes.

Bruce bent down to Dick’s level, so that he could look him in the eyes. “Everything will be fine,” he said. “We’ll make it out of this.”

Dick stared at him, breathing shakily. “What if we don’t?” he said finally. His voice was small. “What if we can’t do it?”

Bruce was tempted to say ‘that’s not an option.’ Or maybe, ‘we will.’ That was what he might have said, if he were talking to Clark or Diana. But he wasn’t, and it was obvious that empty promises and determination weren’t going to cut it. He opened his mouth, at a loss for words. He wasn’t good at this. His mind grasped for something he’d been told once by Alfred.

“Why do we fall?” he said finally.

Dick drew a shaky breath. “I dunno,” he said after a beat. “Why?”

“We fall so we can get back up.”

Dick sniffed and wiped at his eyes with a watery smile. “That’s dumb,” he said.

“Thanks,” Bruce deadpanned. Dick rolled his eyes and shot him a small smile.

“No, I mean, that’s not why we fall. We fall because someone pushes us.”

Bruce was quiet for a moment. “If that’s true,” he finally said, “Then why do we get back up?”

Dick stared at the ground, seemingly pondering the question. “Then…” he said slowly, “We get back up to push back.”

“There you go,” Bruce said. He paused. “Now, I’d suggest we get out of here and find the others before someone decides to find us first.”

Dick smiled, a bit wider than before. “Yeah. That’s probably a good idea.”

…

It didn’t take long to join up with the others. They were scattered throughout the hallway in front of the Courtroom, battling what looked to be about twelve Talons- definitely less than before. That was good. Still, even one Talon would be a struggle for most people.

Kid Flash noticed him and sped over to his side. A gust of air washed over Dick from the backdraft. “Hey, dude, watcha doing?”

“Not much,” Dick smiled back at him. “Mind if I cut in?”

“Be my guest,” Wally said with a grin, and the two of them leapt back into the fight.

Dick was tired, and cold, but the adrenaline of the fight and the promise of everything almost being over pushed him forward. Luckily, Cobb wasn’t one of the Talons they were fighting, so he was able to get away with moving a bit slowly. Near him, Wally used his speed to evade the Talons and steal their weapons.

_ “You know this is all a distraction?” _ Conner said over the mindlink, breaking the hold of his opponent and dropping to the ground.

_ “Yeah, but the Owls are all probably gone by now,” _ Dick said, using the wall as a springboard to slam into Wally’s opponent. The Talon fell forward, and Dick hit him in the back of the head with the handle of his knife, knocking him out cold. Breathing hard, he paused.

_ “I doubt they’d stick around. We’ll have to figure out some other way of taking them down.” _

_ “One that doesn’t involve ever actually seeing them?” _ Artemis said.

_ “I mean, the Talons are still here,” _ Dick said.

...Wait.

Why were the Talons still here?

If all the Owls had jumped ship, they should have gone too. At least most of them, with maybe a few staying behind to guard him and the others- but not this many. So if they were still here, that meant...

“What?” Wally asked out loud, noting his expression.

“I think I’ve got an idea,” Dick said, backing up. “Cover me, okay?” he turned and ran down the hallway, ignoring Wally’s protests behind him.

The sounds of the battle slowly faded away until all he heard was his feet thumping rhythmically on the ground. His mind buzzed with restless energy- or maybe it was exhaustion. Either way, he kept going. 

It wasn’t a long ways to get to where he wanted to be. He wasn’t as familiar with this part of the building, but he had a good memory, and he’d visited this particular room just a couple days ago.

The room looked exactly the same as he’d left it, but darker. The fake fireplace was turned off in the corner, and the lamps were off as well. The curtains hung heavy and imposing in the darkness. The desk looked like nothing more than a shadowy lump, save for a sliver of light glancing across its surface. Dick flicked on the lights and hurried over to the desk.

This had been the place where he’d been assigned to kill Batman. It was just now occurring to him that the Owls that had talked to him before had been talking between each other before they’d talked to him. That meant this was a safe space for secrets. And if he had to guess what the Talons were still doing here, guarding secrets the Owls didn’t want him to find seemed like a safe bet.

“Why am I not surprised to see you here?”

Dick spun around, backing into the desk.  _ Cobb. _ Of course it was him.

“Why do you always have to sneak up on me and insult me every time you want to start a conversation?” Dick said.

“Maybe if you worked on your spatial awareness instead of overthrowing your betters, I wouldn’t have to.”

Dick rolled his eyes.

“You had such potential, you know. You were always my favorite student.” Cobb paused, studying Dick. His face was inscrutable.

“Do you remember when you were young, and you tried to run away?”

Dick didn’t say anything. Of course he remembered. It had been pretty soon after the Court had taken him. They’d sent him on his first assignment. As soon as he’d left the building, he took off and hadn’t looked back.

“You sought out help from that woman,” Cobb said.

“Harris,” Dick said.

“What?”

She had a name. Miss Harris.” His voice had an edge to it.

Cobb gave him another look.

“Yes, well,” he said. “You told her everything. She took you home to her apartment for the night while she figured out what to do. And we tracked you down the next day. We had to kill her.”

Dick remembered that part vividly. She had been terrified. She tried to hide it, for his sake, but he could see her hands trembling as she faced down a Talon in her living room. He’d cried as he watched them kill her, then as they’d grabbed him roughly and left through the window. He hadn’t tried to run away since.

“What’s your point,” he ground out, glaring.

“After that, the Court wanted to process you,” he said. “They dragged you down there kicking and screaming. But you managed to talk your way out of it. You were an extremely clever eight year old.”

Dick didn’t break his glare. Was Cobb actually trying to flatter him? He was smarter than that.

“After that, you had trouble sleeping,” Cobb said. His voice raised a bit, and he swept his arm out. “And who went to the trouble of getting sleeping pills for you?”

“What, so you do one nice thing for me when I was eight and suddenly I forget all the times you’ve been a jerk?” Dick said, a bit louder than necessary. “You literally tried to kill me!”

_ “I have only ever looked out for you!” _

Dick flinched back. He stared at Cobb, his eyes wide.

“I have stood up for you and trained you and bent rules for you,” Cobb said. “You are an exceptional child and I care for you deeply.”

He took a deep breath.

“I don’t want to hurt you. But I will if I have to.”

Neither of them moved. A part of Dick wanted to stop fighting. Go back to the Court. How could he just leave? There were bad moments, but there were good moments there too. Maybe.

Not really.

If he said no, Cobb would kill him. He focused in on that part, a spark of annoyance flaring within him. Cobb stared at him with the same look he’d given him when they were fighting each other in the Courtroom earlier, all concern as he laid out why Dick was wrong.

“Oh,  _ shut up. _ ”

“Excuse me?” Cobb glared at him, but Dick didn’t back down.

“I said shut up! You never cared about me, you just cared that I had potential! If you really cared-” he cut himself off.

“If you really cared, you would have let me leave when I first tried to. If you really cared, you wouldn’t have let the Court take me in the first place.”

He glared at Cobb. “I can’t  _ believe _ I ever cared what you thought of me.”

Cobb seemed frozen in place for a second, but then recovered himself. “Very well,” he said. “If that’s how you want to do things.”

He took a step forward, his imposing frame filling up the doorway. Dick backed up, his hands reaching for his knives.  _ Idiot, you know you can’t beat him, _ he scolded himself.

Cobb drew out his knife, but before he could attack, an electric buzzing noise filled the air. Cobb froze in place, eyes wide. Dick stared in confusion as Cobb collapsed to the ground.

Batman stood where Cobb had been a second before, glaring down at his unconscious form and holding- “A taser,” Dick said. “You tasered him?”

“He’s just unconscious,” Batman said, instead of answering. “Are you okay?”

“That wasn’t the- I’m fine,” Dick said, staying rooted in place as Batman stepped over Cobb’s slumped form. “How’d you know I was here?”

“I didn’t,” Batman said. “I heard voices.”

“Oh.” Dick’s face heated up. He’d been yelling pretty loud. He wondered how much Batman had heard- whether he’d been there for his emotional babbling. To hide his face, he turned back to the desk and started rooting through the drawers again.

“What is this place,” Batman said. It barely sounded like a question, but Dick was getting better at reading him.

“It’s the place they told me to kill you,” he said, feeling around in the drawers. “I thought it was kinda weird that they did it in here, they usually don’t…”

His fingers bumped up against something.  _ That’s weird. _ He nudged it harder, and there was a soft click. The Owl carving on the top of the desk that he’d assumed was decoration lifted slowly, revealing a small compartment inside.

“They usually don’t?” Batman prompted, coming to stand beside him.

“Right.” Dick reached into the compartment and pulled out a small USB drive, then turned to smile at him. “So I figured there must be a reason for that.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some notes:  
> \- Bruce has Big Dad Energy
> 
> \- Cobb is a creep. You all knew that but I felt like reiterating here. I think he loved Dick in the same way that David Cain loved Cass: as something that he helped build and create, an investment, something that reflects well on him.
> 
> \- The 'Miss Harris' bit wasn't planned at all, it just came out like that. Looking back at the... second chapter I think it was, I didn't have any inkling of an idea what really happened to Lily Harris's aunt. I guess I do now.
> 
> \- If it wasn't clear at all, Bruce dosed Cobb with the same poison that had been on the knife that stabbed Dick. I'd imagine Cobb has a higher amount of electrum in his blood, especially since he's been alive for longer than the human lifespan. I'm not sure I want to say he's processed, since processed Talons in this AU can't really think for themselves, and Cobb has a self-furthering agenda. Maybe he's on the brink of processing but never completely finished, idk.
> 
> anyway if you liked it please comment. I'll always respond with nice words :)   
> I'm gonna try and have this whole thing finished before S3 hits, so expect maybe more frequent updates (and if I drop off the map again feel free to give me a shove but not a mean shove. just a reminder shove)  
> thank you for your patience with me, I hope you liked the chapter :)


	9. Warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo it's me  
> I wanted to finish up this chapter today because I'm going to be visiting relatives up until saturday and I won't have access to my computer or anything, so you'll get the next chapter sometime after saturday. One more chapter to go after this :)
> 
> thank you to the people who commented last time. listen I say that every time but I really am so grateful to you guys.

The team met up with Talon and Batman on the roof. Snow was falling gently, pushed around by winds so slight Conner couldn’t even feel them. There was a light dusting of snow on the concrete ground that melted underfoot. It was a peaceful scene. The only thing out of place was the sounds of police sirens getting louder as they drew closer. Conner could see Talon tracking the blue and red lights out of the corner of his eyes, looking tense. It made sense. He’d probably been trained to get away from a scene before police showed up.

It was a good idea for vigilantes, too. Especially ones who were running around with a kid dressed up in the same armor as the unconscious, obviously evil guys inside.

...Yeah, it was probably good that they were leaving now.

_ “Do you think Talon has a place to stay?” _

M’gann’s voice in his mind didn’t surprise him like it used to. It was a comfort now, a quiet understanding running between the two of them. He could tell that there wasn’t anyone else on the link. The question was just for him.

_ “Uh, I’m guessing we just saw it,” _ Conner thought back.  _ “But I don’t think he’ll have to stay there anymore, now.” _

M’gann followed his gaze, to where Batman was standing away from the others, hand up to his ear and talking quietly.

_ “You’re probably right,” _ She thought softly.  _ “But if he doesn’t, we could invite him to stay at the cave?” _

_ “Sure.” _ He smiled over at her.  _ “But I don’t think that it’s gonna get to that.” _

Talon was still watching the city lights. Wally had joined him, and they were talking in hushed tones. A little ways away, Artemis and Kaldur were sharing a joke. For now, the battle was over, and things were quiet.

“The police will be here soon,” Batman said, making his way back towards the group. “Team, you should leave in the bioship. Unless there’s anything pressing, we can debrief tomorrow.”

They all glanced at each other. Wally gave them a meaningful look and jerked his head slightly towards Talon, who had his arms crossed and was looking away towards the bioship.

“Talon, you stay behind,” Batman said, cutting off what Wally was about to say. “I have business to discuss with you.”

Talon looked surprised, though he covered it up quickly and made his face look blank and nonchalant. Conner noticed he did that sometimes. Nevertheless, he followed Batman as he walked away, towards the corner of the roof he’d been talking on before. Conner moved for the bioship. He didn’t want to pry in on their conversation, which was harder with super-hearing. Even harder when he was curious.

_ “He’ll be fine.” _

M’gann’s voice washed over him, and her hand brushed up against his. Before the mindlink, he would have thought it impossible to know so acutely what a smile felt like, but now, with M’gann in his mind, he did. It was a soft, comforting smile tinged with something like a question.

Conner smiled at her.

_ “Yeah, he will.” _

…

Dick fell asleep in the Batmobile.

Bruce had planned on talking to him about various loose ends that needed to be tied up, which was why he’d brought him into the car in the first place. He wasn’t mad about the new development, though. Dick’s head was pressed against the window, his face smooth and free of its usual tension as his breath evened out slowly. He was burrowed into the seat, looking as comfortable as he could be with the armor he was wearing. Obviously, he needed sleep. It had been a stressful couple of days, and the car was warm and comfortable.

Bruce set a course for the cave on autopilot, lost in his thoughts. Dick would need someplace to stay. He’d like to volunteer the manor- he had more than enough space, after all- but several things needed doing to cement that. Dick had been missing for years, and he was Bruce Wayne. Adopting him out of the blue would create a media frenzy. He would need to find a way to be subtle about it. And while he was on the course of being subtle, what of the other Talons? He needed to know if there were other unprocessed Talons like Dick, or if there was some way to reverse one’s processing. Hypothetically, could the Court’s demise snap them out of it, or would they be left as empty shells without purpose?

So many questions, Bruce thought. He glanced over at Dick slumped in the passenger’s seat.

They could wait. First things first, Dick needed to be checked over for injuries, and then he could stay the night at the manor. They could talk tomorrow.

When he pulled into the cave, he wasn’t surprised to see Alfred waiting for him.

“Am I to assume that that is the young Mister Grayson?” Alfred’s eyes were on Dick, who was still asleep.

“You’d assume rightly,” Bruce said. “It’s been a long day.”

“It’s three in the morning, Master Bruce.”

Bruce didn’t say anything to that, and Alfred didn’t press the subject. His eyes were fixed on the slight figure slumped in the passenger seat of the car, studying him. The corners of his eyes softened.

“I suppose I should get him a change of clothes,” Alfred said. “He certainly can’t sleep in full body armor.”

“Good idea,” said Bruce, who hadn’t thought of that. Alfred disappeared into the elevator, and Bruce turned back to Dick.

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching out to touch Dick’s arm.

He only touched it gently, but Dick jolted awake, eyes wide. He blinked in confusion at the cave before turning and noticing Bruce. It was then that he seemed to connect the dots, and his cheeks colored.

“Oh,” was all he said.

“You’re in my base,” Bruce said, choosing to ignore Dick’s embarrassment. “I didn’t want to wake you up, but I’d like to check you over for injuries.”

“I’m- I’m fine,” Dick said. His cheeks were still red.

“Still,” Bruce said.

Dick gave a small huff and climbed out of the car. He followed Bruce in the direction of the med bay, staring around at the cave. His eyes lingered especially on the large dinosaur.

“So this is like… some kind of batcave?” he said. “I like the dinosaur.”

“I usually just call it the cave,” Bruce said, then glanced back at him. Dick had schooled his face to be expressionless again. “But I guess it is some kind of batcave.”

Dick’s lips twitched up as he climbed on the gurney. “I really am fine, you know,” he said.

“And I really would like to check for myself.”

A brief medical examination later proved Dick right. He had some bruises, and it was clear his side was still bothering him, but there wasn’t anything that wouldn’t heal in time. For now, Bruce directed Dick to the showers while he went to work at the computer.

“I do hope you’re not planning on sitting there much longer, Master Bruce,” Alfred said, stepping out of the elevator carrying what appeared to be child-sized batman pajamas in his arms. How and where he’d gotten them, Bruce had no idea, but he appreciated the dedication to his brand.

“I just have some things I need to tie up,” Bruce responded. “I’ll get in the shower after Dick is out. You could probably leave those clothes in the locker room for him when he gets out.”

“Very good, sir.”

Alfred left, and Bruce turned back to his computer. He needed to make a detailed report of what he’d learned since his last report- which was a lot of information to cover. He wanted to make sure that he got it down while it was fresh in his mind.

He wasn’t sure how long he stared at the screen, but he was jolted out of his focus by a voice.

“As far as I know, I’m the only one.”

He didn’t jump, but he turned his head to see Dick standing behind him, staring up at the screen. He was wearing the batman pajamas that Alfred had laid out for him, though Bruce could see a small throwing knife poking out of one of his pockets. He decided not to comment. If that was what Dick needed to feel safe, then he could have it.

“The only one what?” he said instead.

“The only unprocessed Talon,” Dick said, gesturing to the screen. “They like to only have one at a time.”

“Hmm.”

Bruce turned back to the computer and made a note, then turned back to Dick.

“You should rest.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” Bruce gave him a look. Dick looked sheepishly at the ground.

Bruce sighed internally. What would it take to get Dick to trust him?

Well, first of all, it would take longer than just one night, Bruce reprimanded himself. The kinds of things the Court did to Dick wouldn’t go away easily. Probably would never go away completely, either. He could try to soothe it over time. But for now, he needed a quick fix.

He reached up and pulled off his cowl.

“I’m going to sleep soon too,” Bruce said, looking Dick in the eyes. “I’m not going to do anything without your permission. You can rest.”

Dick blinked at him in surprise. He tilted his head to the side, squinting.

“You look… familiar.”

“I get that a lot,” Bruce said, smiling tiredly. “My name is Bruce Wayne.”

He watched as Dick connected the dots. It didn’t take long. He really was a smart kid. “Wait, Wayne like… Wayne  _ Enterprises? _ ”

“Yes,” Bruce said. “I’m trusting you with this secret. I need you to not tell anyone.”

“I… okay,” Dick said. He was smiling a bit, so Bruce counted it as a win.

“Good. Now, you need to sleep.”

The smile fell off of Dick’s face. “Well, I don’t see any beds down here,” he mumbled.

“There are cots,” Alfred said, appearing from around the corner. “But I must say they’re very uncomfortable. I would recommend one of the  _ upstairs _ bedrooms.” He gave Bruce a pointed look.

“Of course,” Bruce said. He turned to Dick, who looked alarmed at the sudden appearance of a random stranger. “Dick, this is Alfred. He can take you to a room.”

“I hope that you’ll be retiring soon as well?” Alfred said, in a tone of voice that left no room for discussion.

“I’ll be up soon,” Bruce said. “Right after I finish my notes.”

He turned back to the computer.

…

Dick followed the fancy british guy- Alfred- into the elevator. He didn’t seem to want to have a conversation, and Dick was trying to think of something to say to break the awkward silence that was stretching between them. What do you say when you’re an assassin that your friend Batman-secretly-Bruce-Wayne brought home at three in the morning and offered a room? Dick was thinking maybe he should reassure Alfred that he wasn’t going to murder him or anything, but it seemed a little… direct. Did he even know that Dick was an assassin? Did he know who Dick  _ was? _

The elevator door slid open, and all those thoughts flew out of his mind.

He was looking at the fanciest room he’d ever seen. Dick had seen his fair share of fancy rooms working with the Court- heck, the Court itself had its own fair share- but this room had a chandelier. A super-fancy, glittery, golden chandelier that looked like it belonged in a palace or something. Hanging on the wall was a giant painting of a family- Batman’s family? There was a little boy and a red-haired lady and a dark-haired man that looked a lot like Bruce, but maybe a bit older, with more gray hairs. Lying on the floor was a rug woven with intricate designs. He stepped out of the elevator.

“Whoa,” he breathed, staring around at the room. The batcave had been impressive, but he’d thought that was on account of it being the batcave. This was just Batman’s  _ house. _

“It does usually get that reaction,” Alfred said, the corners of his mouth twitching. “But there will be time to look around later. For now, if you would follow me, young sir.” He headed for the door.

Dick followed after him on autopilot, his brain buzzing. Why did he call Dick ‘young sir?’ What did he mean by ‘later?’ Why was Bruce’s house so big? Was the chandelier stable enough to hold his weight?

Okay, probably scratch that last one. He wanted to stay on Bruce’s good side, especially when Dick was a guest in his home.  _ Still… _

Dick followed fancy british guy down hallways, turning corners that he barely thought about in lieu of looking around at everything. There were big paintings and huge windows and he saw a suit of armor when he tried to catch a glimpse through an open doorway. Normally, he’d try to remember how to navigate a place when he went there, but he was tired. Or excited. Or both. The point was, he would never be able to navigate this giant house. It was way too big.

Alfred seemed to have no such qualms. He kept a brisk pace, sometimes glancing behind him to make sure Dick was still behind him. His hands were behind his back, and his posture was ramrod straight, Dick noted. It reminded him of those people who would go out power-walking in the park, looking like they had someplace super important to be very soon. (They never did. Dick had spent a good amount of time watching them, and all they did was walk around the park in circles then get back in their car and drive away.) Somehow, Alfred made power walking seem fancy.

He stopped in front of a doorway and turned to wait for Dick to catch up, his hand on the doorknob.

“This will be your room for the night,” he said crisply. “I would give you your pick of rooms, but this is the only one that I’ve prepared, other than Master Bruce’s. I’m afraid the others are somewhat neglected.”

“ _ Master _ Bruce?” Dick asked, hurrying to stand next to Alfred.

“It would only be proper for me to refer to him as such,” Alfred said. “You don’t have to worry about it yourself. I’m sure he’ll let you call him whatever you like, as long as you don’t refer to him as Batman in public.”

He smiled at Dick like they were sharing a secret joke. Dick didn’t really get it, but he smiled back anyway. Then Alfred turned and opened the door, gesturing for Dick to go in.

Dick stepped inside and his jaw dropped. “I thought,” he said, but didn’t finish his sentence.

The room was huge. On one wall was a pair of giant windows that stretched down to the floor and nearly up to the ceiling. Tucked away in a corner was a wooden desk- Dick wasn’t an expert on wood, but it looked like the heavy, expensive kind. Next to the doorway he was standing in was a bed, but it was bigger than any bed he’d slept in. It looked like an adult-size bed. Even with all that clutter, there was enough room to do cartwheels across the carpet.

“You thought?” Alfred said, snapping him back to the present.

“I just- it’s so big,” Dick said finally.

“Yes, well,” Alfred said. “It’s on the smaller side, for bedrooms in Wayne Manor. I’m afraid there’s not much I can do about it tonight. Tomorrow, if you’d like, you could aid me in a search for a smaller one.”

“Tomorrow?”

“If you’d like.”

Dick turned to study Alfred. He seemed to be under the impression that Dick would be staying longer than just tonight… but nobody had mentioned anything about that. Maybe he just meant until everything was over, until he’d given Batman all the information he needed on the Court of Owls? That would make sense, maybe. He wasn’t sure. Everything was moving super fast, and he was too tired to process it all.

“Take it one step at a time, dear child,” Alfred said. Something in his face had softened. “Master Bruce and yourself will get a chance to discuss what you will do from here soon enough. Right now, you need rest.”

“I… right. Okay.” Dick sat down on the edge of the bed tentatively.

“Very good,” Alfred said. “If there is nothing else, I’ll take my leave so that you can sleep.” He went to close the door.

“Alfred?”

Alfred paused.

“I- thanks.”

“You’re very welcome,” Alfred said. “Now get some rest.”

The door closed, taking the ribbon of golden light from the hallway with it. The room was dark as Dick listened to the sound of footsteps fading away. He flopped back onto the bed, staring up through the dark at where the ceiling would be, if he could see it.

This was  _ so _ weird.

…

When he woke up, it took Dick almost half an hour to find anyone. This place was huge. It was hard to believe that just two people lived there- what did they do with all that space? Well, Bruce probably mostly stayed in the batcave doing Batman stuff, he guessed. Not that Dick blamed him. Dick had been tempted to hide away in the room he’d slept in for all eternity. It was easier than trying to figure out what to do next. He’d eventually worked up the courage to leave, but that was more out of boredom than anything. He bet the batcave was never boring.

He’d finally found Alfred in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove scrambling eggs. He stood in the doorway watching him until he turned around.

“Ah, Master Dick,” Alfred said.

“I’m not a master.”

“Nonetheless. Would you care for some breakfast? I thought we could eat in the kitchen today. It’s certainly less… imposing than the dining room.”

Dick looked over at the kitchen island, which held a wide array of breakfast foods. He wondered how early Alfred had gotten up to make it all. Then again, it was pretty bright outside already. It was probably pretty late.

“Um, sure,” he said. “Thanks.”

“Have a seat, then. It doesn’t do to eat while standing up.”

Dick sat down. “It doesn’t do what?”

Alfred looked thoughtful. “Well, I’m sure I don’t know,” he said. “I suppose it’s just something people say.”

Dick hummed, still looking at the food.

“You may take what you want,” Alfred said. “There’s more than enough, don’t worry.”

Dick hesitated, then started scooping food onto a plate. “It… looks good,” he said hesitantly.

“I should hope so,” Alfred said, but there was no bite in it. He smiled at Dick. “I’ve been cooking breakfast for too many years to count.

“So, you always make the breakfast?” Dick asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Heavens, yes,” Alfred said. “Master Bruce is never allowed near the stove at all costs.”

“Why do you call him Master Bruce?” Dick remembered last night he’d asked the same question. At the time, he’d been too tired to press, but now, in the light of day, he didn’t want to let it go again.

“I am his butler,” Alfred said. “Despite his… nightly activities, I try to keep up some semblance of propriety.”

“You really don’t have to,” said a voice. Dick’s head snapped up, and he glanced around to see Bruce Wayne standing in the doorway. His eyes were bleary, and he was wearing pajamas. It was weird to see him like that, not wearing the Batman suit or anything. He almost looked like a normal guy.

“And yet I choose to,” said Alfred briskly. “Good morning, Master Bruce.”

“Hrm.”

Bruce shuffled over to the table and sat down across from Dick. He stared blankly at the food for a couple seconds before reaching out and starting to pile it on his plate.

“Is it some sort of special occasion that I’m forgetting?” he asked.

“No,” Alfred said. “But important matters are better discussed over a good meal.”

“Right,” Bruce said, looking a little more awake at that. He turned towards Dick. “How did you sleep?”

“Um, good? The bed was nice,” Dick said. He fiddled with his fork. He wasn’t usually this nervous about talking. When was the last time he’d made small talk with someone else just for the sake of it? He cast around in his memory, but came up blank.

“That’s good,” Bruce said. He put down his fork. “Listen, we should talk.”

Dick willed his face to turn expressionless and tried not to tense up. “What about?”

“You need somewhere to stay.”

“Um…” It was true, but he didn’t want to say it outright. He could figure something out, Bruce didn’t need to be...  _ obligated _ to him, or something.

“If you’re okay with it,” Bruce said, “You could stay here at the Manor. We have more than enough space, and-” he cut himself off.

“You need me to help you with the loose ends,” Dick filled in.

“No. Well, yes, but no.” Bruce leaned across the table, looking at him intensely. “I know that you said your life could never be normal, but it can… it can still be good. I know what it’s like to feel like everything good in your life is gone.”

Dick looked down at the tabletop to avoid looking at Bruce. His eyes were stinging suddenly, which was annoying. He’d already cried way too much in the past few days. And now Batman was being all nice and considerate and he was totally going to cry again and that would be  _ so _ embarrassing. He swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. Bruce spoke again, softer this time.

“I could help. If you’re alright with that, that is.”

Dick studied Bruce. He looked sincere. And Dick was a performer. He could tell when someone was lying. Besides, he’d helped Dick get this far, hadn’t he? So… “Okay.”

Bruce looked relieved. Dick fidgeted in his seat, embarrassed. “Okay,” Bruce said. “Okay. We can go from there, then. We still have loose ends to work out, but that shouldn’t take long- maybe a week, tops-”

“As much as I am proud of you for this display of unusual communication skills, Master Bruce,” Alfred said from his position at the stove, “I feel that it’s my job to tell you that school will be out soon. If you’re planning on debriefing the team, you’d best eat quickly.”

“Is it that late already?” Bruce glanced up at the clock. “Right. Thanks, Alfred.”

He turned to Dick. “We’d better hurry if we want to be at the debriefing on time.”

Dick glanced down at his plate. For some reason, he had to fight to keep a smile off his face.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, here are some notes!  
> \- Alfred went out and bought the pajamas because he knew Bruce was getting emotionally attached and he had a Feeling  
> \- I really like the idea of Dick being the one to name the Batcave. Like, the citizens of Gotham and the media at large probably named the Batmobile. They see it zooming around, it's a plausible idea. But nobody knows about the cave except Bruce, and he takes his mission way too seriously to call it the Batcave.  
> \- I've alluded to this earlier in the story, but I'd imagine that the Court does let Dick wander around Gotham and pretty much do what he likes as long as it doesn't interfere with their plans. It makes sense, with Dick having as much knowledge of normal life and stuff as he does. So I figure he goes people-watching sometimes, and he went down to the park and watched people power walking through the park. idk, it's a fun image.
> 
> please please please leave a comment if you liked it! feedback is everything. I don't bite, and I'll respond excitedly :)


	10. Vice Versa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's back (back again)  
> so there are still things that I don't like about this chapter but when has that ever stopped me from posting before, amirite
> 
> as always, thank you to the people that commented, you guys are awesome and always so nice :)

The manor (because it was a manor, apparently, not a house) was huge.

Dick had mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, it sometimes reminded him of the Court, built for giants with him as a little bug that the giants would squash if he did something wrong. He’d be walking through a hallway, and then suddenly it would open up into a giant ballroom or something, and a chill would run down his spine, and he’d freeze up for no good reason. In the moment, it was always terrifying, but after he’d calmed down, it was just frustrating.

On the other hand… the whole manor was _super_ cool.

He’d been spending his free time exploring. He’d gotten lost for whole afternoons, and there were still places he hadn’t been. So far, he’d noted that the stairs had very stable railings (good for sliding), the Batcave entrance only opened if you turned the clock in that room to a certain time, and that there was, in fact, a smaller room for him to sleep in. Today, however, his exploration had led him to the library.

He knew about libraries. He’d been in them, lots, when he had free time off from the Court. Books weren’t his favorite. He liked the computers more, but he’d read books sometimes to kill time, or to fall into a different world and spend time with someone else’s problems for a change. This library didn’t have computers, but it had a lot of books, in shelves that stretched to the ceiling. Dick wondered where Bruce had gotten them all. He must have spent a ton of his free time just looking in bookstores for something to fill the shelves.

He wandered the aisles, tracing his hands over the spines of the books. He wasn’t particularly looking to read anything, but it was nice here. Quiet, plus the rows of aisles gave an illusion of smallness that was comforting to him.

Something caught his eye, and he stopped. Turned to peer more closely at the shelves. _There._ A red book, with a gold decal of a circus top pressed into its spine. It was worn down at the corners, and there was no title; it looked like something someone would keep in their house to seem fancy and well-read.

But there was something…

Almost on autopilot, he tugged the book out of the shelf and let it fall open.

It was an old book. The spine cracked at the sudden change in position, and the pages smelled musty, but Dick ignored that, turning the pages looking for… something. He didn’t know.

He stopped on page 132 and sat down on the floor before his legs could fall out from under him.

He sat there, not taking in a single word of the text. His eyes were focused on the picture. He felt frozen, but not in a scary way, exactly. It was more like… if he moved, he had a feeling the whole world would disbalance and fall away. So he sat and stared, letting himself fill up with memories like a pitcher overflowing with water.

He sat there so long that everything faded into the background and he didn’t hear the tell-tale footsteps of someone approaching.

“Master Dick? I wasn’t aware you were here.”

Dick startled and looked up. “Oh,” he said. “Alfred. I-” he cut himself off, unsure what he was going to say. His face must have given something away, though, because Alfred’s eyebrows knit together, and he lowered his feather duster.

“Master Dick. Are you quite alright?” Alfred moved closer, to stand over Dick’s shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Dick mumbled, looking back down at the book. He didn’t close it, though, and Alfred must have known something about Dick’s past, because he said, “Ah.”

The picture was black and white, a bit fuzzy, but you could clearly make out the smiling faces of an acrobat group, waving from the stand just before they took off. The faces were different, and so were the costumes, leotards with a big yellow star on the front of each. But there was something achingly familiar about it, and Dick’s mind rung with the sound of cheers and a loud announcer’s voice.

_“Ladies and Gentlemen, the Flying Graysons!”_

The page had gotten blurry.

Dick blinked. His eyelashes were wet.

“Do you… remember much from that time?” Alfred asked, his voice gentle. Dick traced the faces in the picture.

“Not much,” he said. His voice was quieter than he’d meant it to be, and he stopped to take a shaky breath. He could sense Alfred still hovering there, so he kept talking. “Most stuff, before the Court, is… blurry. Bits and pieces, sometimes. And… what’s-it-called.”

He waved a hand in the air, trying to remember the word. Alfred didn’t say anything, waiting patiently for him to remember.

“Muscle memory?” he looked over at Alfred, unsure if it was the right phrase. “When you do things just because you’re used to doing them, without thinking about it?” Alfred nodded in understanding. “Right,” Dick said. “Muscle memory. Sometimes.” He looked down at the picture again, and again felt an overwhelming sense of loss, longing for a life he barely knew. It didn’t seem fair. Even when he wasn’t around them, the Court had managed to erase something in him, at least partially. He rubbed the side of his chest, before remembering that he didn’t carry knives there anymore and dropping his arm.

“I wish I remembered more.”

“I see,” Alfred said. He was quiet for a moment. “Master Bruce never liked it when people pitied him.”

“I don’t either,” Dick said, scrutinizing Alfred.

“I assumed as much,” Alfred said, his lips twitching up. “I assure you I don’t pity you. You are a strong and capable young man, I doubt you’d have much use for it.”

Dick smiled at him, a bit confused at the subject change, but pleased by the compliments.

“If you’d ever like to talk about your parents, I would listen,” Alfred said. “I’ve been told I’m good at keeping things in perspective.”

Something warm pooled in Dick’s chest, and he smiled, more genuinely this time. “Okay,” he said. “Um… thanks.”

Alfred nodded once, and then went back to his dusting.

…

The other thing Dick didn’t like about the manor was that it was drafty, especially in the cold of winter. Heating such a big space was bound to be a challenge, Dick supposed. Mostly they turned on heaters in the more frequently-used rooms, like the kitchen or the main sitting room. The TV room was used less often, and so it was colder. Which was why he was wearing a blanket, one of the big heavy ones Bruce had on his bed. It was probably his favorite blanket ever.

The snow outside was piling up against the windowpane. It was nice to watch when you were safe inside, Dick thought. It made everything seem quiet and peaceful.

“Ellison did it,” Bruce said. The words vibrated against Dick’s side where he was leaned up against Bruce, snapping him back into the present.

“What?”

“Jim Ellison, the bartender,” Bruce said. He didn’t take his eyes off the screen, where two men in trenchcoats and hats were talking seriously. One was smoking a cigarette.

“He’s the one who stole the museum?”

“Yes,” Bruce said. “He mentioned that he was surprised to hear about the heist, because the museum’s security was too good. But he couldn’t have known all the details he was talking about.”

Dick hummed in acknowledgement. “You wanna know what I think?” he didn’t wait for an answer. “I think it’s all of them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think all of them took some of the stuff from the museum. It’s too big for one person to steal all that in one night. So they’re in cahoots.”

“Solid theory.”

Dick flashed Bruce a smile before turning back to the TV.

He’d been living in the manor for about a week now. So far, it had been a flurry of activity, tying down the loose ends which came with taking down the Court. The other Talons had been sent to Arkham temporarily, to see if they could be snapped out of zombiefication using psychotherapy while officials searched for other ways. By officials, of course, he meant Bruce. And by Bruce, he meant Batman. He’d been spending most of his time either down in the Batcave or up in his office, going over electrum samples and other chemical things Dick didn’t understand. Wally probably would, if he were there.

He’d been to the mountain twice again to see the others. Wally, it turned out, was a science genius. He’d been teaching Dick the basics. He was really behind on school, but Wally said he was a quick learner, so. That was nice.

Most of the time, though, they watched TV together. Or played video games. It was nice, to feel like a part of the group without having the focus drawn completely on him. And TV was fun.

It was with that thought that Dick had lured Bruce out of the Batcave for a bit to watch a movie. It would do Bruce good, to relax for a couple hours, and Dick was bored of wandering the house alone. Alfred only made good company when he wasn’t busy, and the team had school lots of the time. Even with everything happening around him, there wasn’t much for him to do.

He pulled his blanket higher over his shoulders and leaned into Bruce. Bruce didn’t say anything, but his arm wrapped around Dick’s shoulders. For a moment, he felt as still and peaceful as the snow outside, and he savored the warmth of Bruce’s body, the slidey fabric feel of the blanket, the noise playing from the TV, filing it all away in his mind so he could replay it whenever he wanted.

...

“I’m going to pour boiling water all over Donkey Kong’s head.”

“Hey, don’t hate me ‘cause you ain’t me,” Wally grinned, jiggling his controller. “If you don’t want someone to blue-shell you, don’t get in first.”

“You’re in first right now,” Dick said. “Vulnerable to attack. And now I have a vendetta. This is a revenge story.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Dick contemplated pushing Wally off the couch, but decided against it. He’d save it for later, just in case. He’d probably only be able to do it once because of Wally’s superspeed. It was hard to get an edge on him, but the element of surprise was useful.

They were in the mountain, playing video games in front of the TV while Wally ate just about everything in the kitchen. Superboy had come in earlier, but walked out as soon as he saw what they were playing. (“He hates Mariokart because of Donkey Kong,” Wally had explained. “What’s wrong with Donkey Kong?” Dick had asked. “Monkeys,” Wally had said, matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything.) Other than that, the mountain was quiet. M’gann was at her cheerleading practice, Kaldur was visiting his family, and Artemis was off in Star City with Green Arrow. They had the whole place to themselves.

Dick watched as the boppy ending music played and the results rolled out- him in third, Wally in first. Wally was _so_ going down for that. On the screen, Donkey Kong stood up in his car and beat his chest.

“So, what’s up at the Manor?” Wally asked, putting down his controller. “Got any shocking secrets about Bruce Wayne?”

Dick rolled his eyes. “We both do.”

“I meant other than the fact that he’s Batman.”

Dick hummed, popping his controller in and out of its wheel. “I dunno,” he said. “He’s pretty busy right now, getting the mess the Court left cleaned up.”

“You don’t sound very enthused about that.”

“I don’t know,” he said again, looking down at his controller. “I guess I just…”

“You just what?”

“I feel like I should be doing something.” he paused. “Like, I keep hearing all this crazy stuff that’s happening secondhand, and it’s weird, because I’m used to… being there, I guess. But I don’t want to go back to being Talon.”

“So don’t be a Talon,” Wally said. “Be your own hero.” He stuffed a handful of popcorn in his face.

Dick snorted. “Is that something you saw on a poster in your guidance counselor’s office?”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” Wally said. “Like, you’re super trained.”

“To kill people.”

“And your guardian is literally Batman.”

“So?”

“And all your friends are superheroes.”

“Would you get to the point?”

“So, you can go out and do something. You’re, like, hyper-qualified to be a hero. Just pick a different name.”

Dick looked up at Wally, who raised his eyebrows with a smug grin. _Wait, what?_

It was ridiculous to say he’d never considered it before, but he hadn’t. It had been… well, he couldn’t say that helping the team the last few days had been _fun,_ exactly, but it could have been, if they hadn’t been targeting the Court. The team had accepted him, and he _had_ fought well with them. Plus, he’d been watching how Batman fought, thinking about trying out some of his moves later. If he had him as a mentor...

He turned the idea over in his head: being a part of the team. Being out in the thick of the action. Being able to run across rooftops at night again, only this time helping people.

“Wally, have I ever mentioned how smart you are?”

“Usually you call me the dumbest person you’ve ever met,” Wally said, but he was smiling.

“Well, you’re really smart.”

“You’ll need a different name,” Wally said.

Dick hummed, looking down at his controller. His mind was whirring with different possibilities. A spark had lit up in his brain, and it had started a forest fire. A good kind of forest fire, the kind where the plants-slash-preconceived ideas burned down so that new ones had enough sunlight to grow.

“Well?” Wally prompted.

“I’ll… have to think about it.”

The name, anyway.

...

Bruce’s eyes itched. The computer screen was harsh and bright, in dramatic contrast with the black shadows of the rest of the cave, and his back hurt from sitting in the same position too long. He massaged his face with his hands.

It had been a long few days.

Luckily, Bruce had found out lots about the plans of the Court of Owls from the USB Dick had found. They’d meant to go public in their takeover of Gotham, clamp the city completely under their control so they could start spreading their roots further. From what he could tell, they hadn’t spread those roots yet. Another lucky strike.

Even with all that luck, he was still busy making sure the Court would stay down. He’d had to give the plans to the GCPD- they were far too suspicious after seeing the Talons, and he’d wanted to guarantee the Talons a chance at recovery, which meant the GCPD had to know what was going on. He’d made a copy of the plans for his own use, of course. But he was uncomfortable with the idea that there was a copy out there, beyond his reach. After all, he still didn’t know who many of the Owls were. He’d managed to figure out the identities of a few of them, but he wished he could work faster. Every day that went by was a day that the remainders could regroup.

Bruce rubbed his face in his hands. He was thinking in circles now. Nothing more could be done tonight. He might as well get some rest.

He took the trip from the cave to his room on autopilot, his thoughts buzzing. It was only when he passed Dick’s room that he paused. A faint noise had come from beyond the door.

On an impulse, he knocked softly on the door. “Dick?” he whispered.

No response.

He waited a couple seconds, then pushed the door open a crack. The room was dark save for the sliver of light stretching from the door. He pushed the door open a little further.

Dick was asleep in bed, his hands clenching the blanket and his eyebrows furrowed. Bruce quietly moved closer, freezing when Dick shifted. He mumbled something incomprehensible which might not have been english.

Something inside of Bruce softened, and he sat down at the edge of Dick’s bed. A nightmare, then. He was familiar.

Dick mumbled something again, his face troubled. Definitely not english, Bruce noted. He recalled from paperwork he’d been sifting through that Dick was part Romani. Bruce wondered if he could be dreaming about his family, or something else unrelated. He definitely had his pick of traumatic experiences.

Bruce reached out and started running his hand soothingly through Dick’s hair. “Shhh,” he whispered. “You’re okay. It’s okay.”

He wasn’t sure what else to do. The last time his parents had comforted him after a nightmare had been… well, it had been a long time. But he had a vague memory of a hand running through his hair, a voice whispering quiet reassurances. He hoped it would be enough.

It seemed to be helping, at least a little. After a little while, Dick’s hands uncurled from the sheets, and his eyebrows smoothed out. Bruce didn’t stop, though, until Dick sighed and settled deeper into his blankets, content.

Bruce didn’t leave immediately. He sat at the side of the bed, studying Dick. He looked so young when he slept. All of the tension and caution and scars melted away, until he seemed content.

It was an almost terrifying thought, that Dick trusted Bruce to protect him. For all the things he knew as Batman, parenting wasn’t exactly in Bruce’s repertoire. The thought occurred to him, as it had ever since he’d first decided to offer the Manor as a place to stay, that Dick might be better off with someone else.

Bruce watched Dick, whose breathing was even and slow.

He couldn’t bring himself to act on the thought.

Dick trusted him, and he knew about Dick’s past. He’d been the one who’d seen him on the roof, fighting desperately out of fear of punishment. And he knew about Dick’s parents. How he saw them die. Bruce could understand Dick in a way others probably couldn’t, or wouldn’t, and he wasn’t going to let his own fears get in the way of helping Dick recover from what had happened. Besides, he was the goddamn Batman, and if Batman didn’t know how to do something, he didn’t give up.

Learning how to take care of a teenage ex-assassin couldn’t be that hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's that on that!
> 
> I was thinking of maybe making this into a series, with oneshots in this universe showing stuff like alternate POV's in some scenes, things that happen after/before the story, etc. Would anyone be interested in reading that? no promises, but that's something that might happen.
> 
> when I think about how long I've been working on this... I started it April 2018. that's pretty crazy. I know it might not seem like a long time compared to some stories that go through super intensive... everything with amazing authors, but it's a really huge deal for me that I was even able to finish this. First multi-chapter thing I've ever finished, and also the longest thing I've ever written. 
> 
> I know I say this like every chapter, but I would seriously like to thank the people that have supported this story with their comments :) it doesn't matter if they're short or if you only commented once or if you commented late, I cherish every single one of them, and I look back on them whenever I need a productivity boost.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed :)


	11. Extras

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU MIGHT WANNA READ THIS FIRST  
> so uh, apparently ao3 has this thing where if you save a draft, no matter if you post it days later, it'll show up in the listings as when you first saved the draft. and I didn't want you guys to have to miss the last chapter because of my screw-up, so instead I'm adding another chapter.
> 
> So this chapter isn't actually part of the story, but it's a deleted scene and also some of my notes that I wrote when I was plotting out the story, in case that stuff is interesting to you guys!

**Deleted Scene** (set between chapter 7 and chapter 8, when the Court had captured the team, Batman, and Talon)

 

Maria Powers liked her last name.

It gave a sense of irony to the whole thing. She hadn’t grown up a Powers, and she hadn’t grown up powerful, either. No, she’d grown up being tossed from place to place, her parents always ‘asking,’ her opinion first- not that it made a difference with the end result. Whenever she would complain about having no friends or never being able to memorize bus routes, it would be her mother that would talk to her. She’d have run off to some shadowy corner, where she could be upset without anyone bothering her, but her mother would always find her. When she did, she would sigh, standing over Maria’s head, and then sit down next to her.

“Maria,” she would say. “You’re such an open kid.”

“I know that,” Maria would respond. “You’ve told me this already.”

“I know,” her mom would say back. “But it’s a hard lesson to learn. I think you could stand to hear it one more time.” and she would brush a beautiful platinum curl behind her ear, pausing before continuing.

“You can’t be open with so many things, Maria,” she’d say. “You don’t have that privilege in life. You need to start keeping things closer to your chest. Take something for yourself for a change, hmm?”

But it seemed no matter what she did, she was destined to be lonely. No friends would magically appear and give her something to take. She could throw everything she had into a relationship, but it would never work out. Not even her relationship with her mom withstood the test of time, in the end. That had been how she had found herself in Gotham, with no place to stay and no money to her name. She fully expected to die by the end of the night, whether by the cold or by muggers, so she figured she might as well make her last night on Earth count. Her mom’s voice echoed in her mind:  _ take something for yourself for a change. _ And so she did- in the form of a gala she hadn’t been invited to, with a dress she hadn’t paid for, dancing with a man she didn’t know.

She got to know him soon enough, though. His name was Joseph Powers, and his family owned an extremely upscale hotel right there in Gotham. He said he loved her, let her stay at the hotel free of charge, and once they were old enough, he proposed right away.

She accepted, of course- Joseph was a gentleman, not to mention exceedingly rich. It wasn’t until the night of their wedding day that he had revealed the truth: she’d married into much more power than she’d thought. As his wife, she would have sway over everything in Gotham, thanks to the Court of Owls. She thought of her mother’s words again-  _ take something for yourself for a change- _ and graciously accepted the mask offered to her.

After that, life had become a flurry of ordering servants and wearing glittering jewels during the day, ordering assassinations and wearing a blank-faced mask during the night. For the first time in her life, she understood what her mother had meant- if you wanted power, you couldn’t ask for it. You had to  _ take _ it, and then guard it from anyone who tried to take you down. She adjusted accordingly. The girl who had once been unable to memorize bus routes became the lady who navigated a web of her own making, woven from secrets, lies, and total control. She climbed within the Court, known for her leadership and her cool head.

It had been her who had proposed plans to bring the Court into the open. After all, they already controlled most of Gotham City. If they played their cards right, they could take the rest in one fell swoop and then reveal themselves. No one would be able to fight back- the Court would have already won. But first, they needed to take care of a few loose ends. ‘Loose ends,’ being Batman. As long as he was out there, Gotham City would never fully be theirs.

Of course, there was a reason the Court had never sent Talons after him before. He was too much of an unknown variable- try as they might, they couldn’t find out anything about his real identity. He was also a skilled fighter, beating death over and over again, against all odds. Still, Maria had a plan for that too- they would send in an unprocessed Talon.

There had been a bit of backlash over that. It was a risky move, she agreed. But it also made the most sense- for someone to have even the slightest chance of beating Batman, they had to be able to think for themselves, and fight smart. A processed Talon couldn’t do that. And so they had agreed, eventually, to send an unprocessed Talon to kill Batman.

That was when everything had gone wrong.

They’d gotten it under control. She’d had a backup plan, just like always. Her contingencies had saved their lives and gotten the Justice League’s sidekicks captured, not to mention Batman himself. She was already running through different ways she could highlight that to the others in the Court once they accused her plan of going wrong. She wasn’t about to be taken out on something so simple as this.

...

**Notes:** whenever I was having a tough time figuring out exactly what to write next, I would switch to a different doc and write this stuff.

 

At most points in the fic, it’s like he’s walking a wire between two sides. That’s where the tension is coming from- that if he leans too far onto either side, he’s going to fall off. So the idea is for him to take a stand for the side he wants, against the Court, in front of the Court. That’ll probably have ramifications, so there can be an aspect of sacrifice in there.

 

You need to make sure to include the whole ‘processing’ aspect of the story. It’s being all built up right now, it can’t lead up to nothing. So maybe something like…

 

  * Talon goes up against the Court, makes the right decisions, everything like that, with this encounter- Cobb: “Why don’t you just stay with us, take the easy way out. Staying with these ‘heroes’ will only bring you suffering.” Talon, unsheathing his knives: “There is no easy way out anymore.”
  * He still fails, and this is his lowest point. All his fears are being realized: his friends are captured, he’s going to be processed- he feels defeated, he gives up. His lowest point in the heroes’ journey.
  * The others are close to giving up hope as well, but want to make sure talon is okay- they’ve grown attached. The Court tells them he’s going to be processed, and this is the Court’s mistake- they get cocky, and explain what processing is. This gives the others something to fight for, and they kick into gear, find Talon, and save him right before he’s processed.



 

The Court is a major creepytown kinda thing

The Court’s goal is to control people, and they’ve got this kind of view of them being the ‘elite’ of Gotham city. They love having control over everything that happens in Gotham. That’s why they want to kill Batman- they want him out of the way because he’s a loose variable. Then they’ll take Gotham by force, infiltrating its most valuable positions so that they can have total power. With Batman on their side, there will be no stopping the Court once they gain total power.

 

The Court’s Plan:

  * Take out Batman, get him working for them through processing
  * Process Dick as well, because they won’t need him to think for himself once they don’t need to be on the dl
  * Take out Commissioner Gordon, too, he’ll need to go
  * Take out the Mayor maybe? Maybe they’ve already done that
  * Take over Gotham with no protest from anyone else bc they _already took it over_ now they’re just coming into the light
  * And then moderate everything so that they can be in control



 

What is their PLAN

 

So here’s the plan:

  * The court’s heirarchy can be figured out by looking at how many people are in the courtroom on any given decision. If they’re there on more important or key decisions then they’re more important members.
  * So maybe Talon pretends to go back to the Court and says he has information that’s super important to their plans. So then they’ll call a meeting. 
  * And then the team and batman will be above the building in the bioship while it’s in camo mode, and he can talk to them telepathically. Once he gets called in front of the court he tells them and they sneak in with the directions and stuff he’s given them.
  * And so then Talon stalls until they get to the Courtroom and then they barge in guns blazing.
  * And the fight begins but the problem is that there are other Talons lurking in the shadows. So they have to fight them.
  * And Talon gets actually captured and so do the others.
  * Etc you already know this part
  * Then the SECOND PLAN THAT’S NOT ACTUALLY A PLAN
  * Talon goes over to the place where he got his assignment (u know, that small room that would be warm but it’s not)
  * And he gets info from there and also fights Cobb and then Batman shows up and saves him
  * And then they regroup and the Court is all scattered and stuff
  * And then with the info they have they turn it over to the authorities and the Court members get hunted down and this is the dust settling



 

HOW IN THE WORLD DID THEY ESCAPE FROM THEIR CAGE

 

Things I know:

  * Cobb is guarding them. He has ample reason to not take his eyes off them. He’s not the sort of dude who would slack off on his work, because he’s very passionate about it.
  * They have no powers to speak of.
  * They need to get Cobb out of the way and then Batman can pick the lock on the cage, letting them escape.



Ok so batman has the talon stopping formula from the scientist notes on the USB drive.

 

How to get Cobb over there:

  * Get him to start taunting them again, and have him step dramatically closer
  * Act like they have a plan to get out and then be all cagey (ha) about it
  * Actually they don’t really know batman has a plan yet, so taunting is their best option.



  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it. All the behind-the-scenes stuff and my incoherent rambling.
> 
> I'll probably delete this chapter after a while unless you guys really want me to keep it up, but I hope you enjoyed anyway :)


End file.
